


Howl

by bellacatbee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Blood and Gore, Implied Mpreg, Knotting, M/M, Mind Control, Omega Castiel, Vampires, Violence, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 22:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/854685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellacatbee/pseuds/bellacatbee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is an Alpha looking for his mate, dragging his younger brother all over the country on his search. For Alpha wolves like Dean, the need to find a mate is a biological necessity. If he doesn’t find his mate, Dean could end up going feral.</p><p>In a little town called Angel Falls, Dean meets Castiel Novak, who he knows instantly is the mate he’s been looking for. Only Castiel is a human, not a werewolf like Dean. That would be bad enough, but it turns out that Dean isn’t the only supernatural creature interested in Castiel.</p><p>A centuries old vampire named Crowley is also after him. If Crowley compels Castiel to be his, if he bites Castiel first before Dean can lay a claim on him, then Castiel will be lost to Dean forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Howl

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to casness for the beta, and to bonesys for the original idea and of course to my artist moushkas
> 
> The Crowley/Castiel is completely one-sided.

 

 

A werewolf and a vampire walk into a bar.

 

At least that’s the start of the joke. It normally ends in bloodshed, but not today.

 

 

Benny gestured to the seat across from him, an open bottle of beer already waiting.

 

“You knew I was coming then?” Dean asked. He picked up the beer, sniffed it then took a sip.

 

“It would be hard to miss,” Benny said, grinning. “Sit down, brother. I saved you the best seat in the whole bar.”

 

That was true. They were in the corner, hidden away from the general clientele. It wasn’t likely they’d be bothered there.  Dean accepted the chair, sliding down into his and lounging there, legs apart as he took another long, slow swallow of his beer. Benny laughed.

 

“You need to make it that clear that you’re the Alpha? I didn’t think I was threat.”

 

“Force of habit,” Dean mumbled. “You’re a vampire, man. Some things are just instinct.”

 

Benny nodded. They lapsed into an easy silence, both content to watch the bar’s other patrons and enjoy the beer. Dean could smell quit clearly that everyone else there was human, not particularly interesting as far as humans went.  Being near a vampire made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, but Benny was a good guy. He’d been Dean’s friend for a good forty years. They both had the same understanding – as tasty as humans might seem, neither of them indulged. It was one of the reasons Benny was the only vampire Dean could stand.

 

His instincts still told him to jump across the table and rip the vampire’s throat out, but Dean had gotten good at controlling himself. Sam always said they had to be controlled. They didn’t want to go around drawing attention to themselves. Werewolves who drew attention to themselves got killed. Either some hunter took them out, or another wolf did because there was nothing worse than having some loose cannon endangering everyone. Dean had taken out a few lone wolves in his time. He considered those mercy killings. Wolves without packs, without families and mates, they went a little crazy. It was a sad state of affairs all around but sometimes things like that happened.

 

Benny put down his bottle, smacking his lips together in satisfaction.

 

“How long you in town?” he asked.

 

“Not long, just passing through,” Dean muttered. He’d already scoped out the town. There was nothing for him here.

 

“You still dragging Sam all over the country?”

 

“It’s good for him. If we stayed in one place too long, we’d both go stir-crazy.”

 

Dean would. Sam would have been happy anywhere. He was a nice little beta. He didn’t feel the same pressure Dean did. Dean needed to keep moving, to chase the horizon because he was searching for his mate and he couldn’t wait for his mate to find him. As long as Dean kept moving then he wouldn’t end up savage, hiding in the woods, attacking courting couples and getting himself on the news under the headline ‘Wild Animal At Large!’

 

“No luck then?” Benny raised an eyebrow, his look too knowing.

 

“Not yet,” Dean said, gritting his teeth. “I’m not exactly celibate, Benny. I’m not some idiot getting himself all het up over things he can’t have. None of them are right, that’s all.”

 

Dean had learned a long time ago that there was no point in waiting for the one, his perfect mate. He’d learned that about sixty years ago when he was a precocious pup and his mate didn’t turn up right when puberty struck. He’d had sixty long years in which his mate had never shown up. Dean wasn’t going to hasten his decent into madness by keeping himself pure and untouched for a mate who might not even have been born when he started looking. He’d had a few nice beta girls, who’d smelled all kinds of good, but who didn’t make him wild with lust, didn’t make him fall in love and forswear all others. He’d even had one or two beta boys. All it had done was help Dean unwind.

 

He growled a little, showing his teeth. Even if they were friends, he still didn’t like Benny knowing so much about the intricate workings of Dean’s sex life or his species. He liked it even less when Benny brought it up when they were just supposed to be having a friendly drink together.

 

“Whatever happened to Lisa? I liked her.”

 

Dean had liked Lisa too. He’d liked her pup, Ben. He could have been a good father, he’d tried to be a good father but there was always something missing. Lisa didn’t smell right. He’d lain in bed with her, his stomach twisted up into knots by the knowledge that she wasn’t it. He’d lasted four months and by the end he was clinging on by sheer force of will, not any real desire to be with Lisa.

 

What he’d done to her hadn’t been fair. She’d deserved someone who could stand by her, not someone who was always looking over his shoulder, looking for the unknown.

 

Since then, Dean hadn’t stopped in one place too long and he’d stuck to one-night-stands. He’d kept moving, kept searching.

 

He took another sip of his beer, the taste odd on his tongue, turned bitter by the memory. He swallowed the mouthful and said “It didn’t work out.”

 

“Too bad,” Benny said. “Where you headed next?”

 

“I’m taking the scenic route. I saw this town on the map called Angel Falls. I figured that was a good a place as any to look.”

 

Benny snorted.  

 

“It sounds like something out of a romance novel. You really think you’re going to meet her there? This mystery woman of yours who’s going to turn out to be your one true love?”

 

“My mate,” Dean corrected him. “And maybe. I won’t know if I don’t look.”

 

“I admire your optimism,” Benny said, although he still sounded doubtful.

 

“It’s not optimism. It’s a survival instinct,” Dean said. He had to find his mate. It wasn’t something he had a choice in. He drained the last of his beer, leaving the empty bottle in the middle of the table. “I need to get going.”

 

“I’ll see you around,” Benny said. They both knew that could mean next week, next month or in ten years’ time.  

 

“Yeah,” Dean said, reaching for his wallet and throwing a couple of bills on the table, ignoring Benny’s token protest. Dean always paid his way. “Hopefully next time, I’ll have someone to show off to you.”

 

Benny shook his head, chuckling softly. “Let’s hope so, brother.”

 

They both knew that the longer it took, the more chance there was that Dean would start turning feral. The promise to see each other again was Benny’s way of promising to check up on him. Dean hoped that if he ever crossed the line, his friend would put him out of misery. He didn’t want Sam to be the one left with that unenviable task.

 

 

Angel Falls was quaint. It was a small and picturesque town where the leaves on the trees were starting to turn as autumn approached. Everywhere Dean went there was the scent of something delicious - apple pie, pumpkin pie, cinnamon and fresh baked pastries. He could gorge himself on food happily but that wasn't the real reason for his visit. He was searching for his elusive mate and he wasn't going to find her by staying in the local diner or spending an hour in the bakery, unable to decide what he wanted. Everything had smelled so good.

 

He'd settled eventually on a box of donuts, the cinnamon glazed, custard filled kind. He'd take them back to Sam, to try and tempt him to eat something other than salads and healthy food. He knew Sam was worried about red meat, about the effect it could have on him but Dean ate burgers and steaks all the time and he didn't crave human flesh. Besides, a donut wasn't going to turn Sam into some kind of monster baying at the moon.

 

He walked back along Main Street, the box tucked under his arm. It didn't take too long to remind him why Dean usually stayed out of little towns. People were looking at him, suspicion in their eyes. They didn't know he was a werewolf. They just knew he was a stranger in a leather jacket, someone their instincts told them to stay away from.

 

Instincts were a useful thing. More humans should listen to them. Still, Dean liked big cities, no one cared what he looked like there. They were all too involved in themselves to spare him a second glance. In big cities there were so many things more dangerous than Dean, but small towns weren't the same.

 

Dean sniffed the air, the people heading past him, scenting them but he knew it was a lost cause. His mate wasn't going to be in some little town he'd picked on a whim because he thought the name was cute.

 

He'd head back to the motel, eat the dozen donuts on his own and tomorrow pack and hit the road again, dragging Sam with him. It wasn't as if Sam had had any time to get settled or make friends. Dean tried not to keep them anywhere long enough for that to happen. He didn't like tearing Sam away from his friends. There'd been times he'd had to do it when they were younger, when the desire to get out and find his mate hadn't been so strong and they’d pitched up somewhere for a couple of months at a time.

 

Sometimes they'd had to leave for safety’s sake. It didn't look good when their friends were in their fifties and sixties and Sam and Dean were still young men. They'd outlived so many people, so many lives, that it made sense to keep moving before they could become attached. It was saving Sam from pain and Dean had always tried his best to do that.

 

They'd move on, hit the next big city, spend a week there and maybe this time Dean would be in luck. He was so sure his mate was close. He trusted his instincts, he followed them and he knew his mate was somewhere on this path, somewhere heading north. When he got up in the morning, when he drew in his first breath of the new day, he knew.

 

Dean was preoccupied, already planning his next move. He'd stopped noticing the people walking by. They'd become nothing but a blur of noise, color and scent. The scent of his donuts was more interesting than the people walking past him. That would be one thing he'd miss about Angel Falls. Too many places stuffed their food with preservatives and additives and crap that Dean didn't need. Salt and sugar was enough. Maybe a little extra salt and a little extra sugar for Dean's tastes but still, that was all.

 

Someone bumped into him. Dean gripped his box of donuts tighter, turning to chew the guy out.

 

"Watch where you're going, buddy," he snarled.

 

The man glared at him, his blue eyes flashing, evidently feeling that Dean was the one who hadn't been watching where he was going.

 

Dean opened his mouth, ready to rip the guy a new one, but he was assaulted by a scent unlike anything else he'd ever know. It was sweet, overpoweringly so and Dean couldn't do anything but stand there, staring at the strange man, breathing in his delicious scent.

 

It was better than anything he'd ever smelt before. He wanted to devour the man, to pin him down right there on the street and lick him all over. He wanted to roll in that scent till it was mingled with his own, till he was never alone because that scent and the man who smelled of it would be with him always.

 

The man was still watching him, his face darkening with suspicion as Dean continued to stare. Finally, he shook his head, turning away and walking on, disappearing into crowd.

 

Dean stared after him, his heart hammering.

 

He knew what that scent meant. That was his mate. That strange man on the street was Dean's mate, the one he'd been searching for. He was nothing like Dean had imagined. He was the wrong sex for one thing. He wasn't anything like the beautiful, leggy women Dean had dreamt about. He was just some little slip of a thing.

 

But he was Dean's mate.

 

Dean had been searching for him for so long and now he'd found him he didn't want to spend another moment apart.

 

He forgot about Sam, the donuts tucked under his arm, about everything but his mate and his mate's scent. Already the crowd was moving around him, closing around the man and carrying him away. Dean pushed forward, shoving people out of the way. It didn't matter if he lost sight of the man. He had his scent now and Dean would be able to track that scent to the ends of the earth if he needed to.

 

 

Dean tailed the guy down little streets and through back alleys. They lost the crowds, until eventually it was just the two of them. The guy didn't even seem aware that Dean was following him. He had no self-preservation instincts. Finally they came to an old brownstone building and the guy ducked inside the front door. Dean waited a little while then ran up the steps, peering at the names embossed next to a row of buzzers.

 

He searched for the name of his mate but there was nothing to tell him which of the names was the right one. His mate’s scent didn't linger on any of the buzzers and when Dean thought about it, he supposed it wouldn't. His mate didn't need to call through to his own apartment.

 

Dean stood on the doorstep of the apartment building, wondering how he could get in. He supposed he could pretend to be a maintenance man but he didn't look the part. He could pretend to be there to visit a friend but if he was visiting a friend then he would know their apartment number and be able get them to open the door for him.

 

Alternatively he could wait. His mate would have to come out of his apartment again at some point and then Dean could corner him. He had the box of donuts. He could sit outside on the apartment steps, eat his donuts and wait. The only downside to that plan that Dean could see was the possibility of someone calling the cops and claiming he was a stalker.

 

He so badly wanted to know his mates name. Now that he'd found him, Dean didn't want to leave the man's side. He wanted to stay with him forever but people would get suspicious if Dean continued loitering outside.

 

He jumped down the steps and took off around the building, hoping that his mate's apartment might be on the ground floor. He peered through windows, sniffed at cracks in the walls around the glass but nothing he smelled like his mate. No one at the ground floor was home either. That was a good thing. Dean didn't want to be noticed looking in windows. That would be a quick way to get the police called.

 

Around the back of the building there was a tree. It had once been fenced in by someone who wanted it to grow straight and tall but as soon as it had grown taller than its little metal fence it had spread its branches as far as it could. Some of them were tapping against the window panes of the third floor.

 

Dean set down his box of donuts on the ground.

 

"My luck, he'll live on the second floor or around the other side," he grumbled to himself as he reached out, getting a hand hold in the knotted tree bark.

 

He dragged himself up, feet scrabbling at the tree, pushing himself higher till he could grab hold of a tree branch. He kept climbing till he got as high as he needed to be. He edged himself along the branch, going slowly, mindful that it might not support his weight. It seemed old and strong but that didn't mean there wasn't damage in the branch that Dean couldn't see.

 

He reached the midway point and peered into the window of the apartment he was level with. His luck, for once, was in. He could see his mate through the window. It gave Dean the perfect view of his bedroom and, to Dean's delight, the young man hadn't closed the curtains. He obviously didn't expect anyone to be up high enough to see him. He probably thought the tree would block the view.

 

Dean settled down on the branch, lying flat on his stomach, watching.

 

His mate was sitting on the edge of his bed, going through his bag. He was facing away from Dean and that give Dean time to study him. He was young. Not too young but still in the first flush of youth. He wasn't a teenager, Dean could smell that. He was obviously old enough to be keeping his own apartment. Or maybe someone else was keeping him? Dean thought he would have smelled another man or woman on his mate when he bumped into him, but he hadn’t been thinking about that possibility at the time. All he’d been thinking about was the fact that his mate was real and standing in front of him, smelling delicious.

 

He sniffed the air now, hoping he might catch some hint as to if he had a rival. His mate’s scent stood out to him but it wasn't as fine as it would have been had the window been open. There were other scents intermingled - other people, other apartments, the smell of the tree.

 

As Dean watched, his mate pulled a book from his bag. He stood up, leaving his bag on the bed and left the room. Dean growled in frustration. He'd wanted to keep watching. He'd wanted to see more of his mate. Even watching him read his book would have been pleasurable to Dean.

 

Muttering under his breath, Dean climbed down from the tree. He collected his box of donuts, tucking them back under his arm. He returned to the front of the apartment, running back up the porch steps, looking for the apartments on the third floor. If he'd counted right, his mate lived in the second apartment along.

 

He glanced up and down the list till he found it - apartment 2, floor 3 Castiel Novak.

 

"Castiel," Dean said, trying out the name, enjoying the weight of it on his tongue.

 

His mate had a name. A strange and beautiful name.

 

Dean pressed his finger to the buzzer. Now he knew who his mate was, he wouldn't wait any longer to meet him properly.

 

There was a click then static.

 

"Hello?" Dean said.

 

"Hello?" came back another voice, distorted by static.

 

"Let me in," Dean said, willing everything into his voice, all the want and the need, the hunger.

 

There was a pause then the voice came back, "Who is this? Gabriel, if this is you making a joke."

 

"My name's Dean," Dean said, anger rising unbidden in him when his mate mentioned another man. "You bumped into me on the street."

 

"And you've come here to apologize? Or to beat me up?"

 

Dean swallowed hard. He wanted to tell Castiel the truth. He wanted badly to tell him that he'd been searching for him, that Castiel was his mate and he had to let Dean in so Dean could bite him. He had to let him in so they could be together for all eternity.

 

He wanted to say that but when he ran it back in his head it made him sound insane. It also sounded like he was quoting from an old vampire movie. Dean could do better than that.

 

He looked down at the box in his hands, grinning.

 

"An apology," he said. "I've got fresh donuts."

 

The line went dead and for a second Dean thought he'd said the wrong thing.

 

Then, the door clicked open. Dean shoved his shoulder against it, pushing it open all the way and bounded inside.

 

 

The apartment was just as Dean had imagined it would be. He would have called it lightly decorated but he suspected that there hadn’t been much actual decoration planned. The furniture was all second hand. It had either been found in second-hand shops or donated. The lack of furnishings gave the room a light, airy feel, much like what Dean had spied in the bedroom. There was a flowery couch, a coffee table with papers and books spread over it and two bookcases – one a faded, peeling white and the other a good quality pine. Nothing matched but it all looked nice together.

 

It was the young man standing in the middle of it that really caught Dean’s attention though. He bit his bottom lip, shuffled his feet and mumbled a soft apology for the messy state of the room. He couldn’t meet Dean’s eye and Dean tried to quiet the wolf inside of him that told him to bite Castiel now, told him that Castiel was submissive and ripe for the picking.

 

Castiel was also human. He wouldn’t take displays of Alpha dominance well. It wasn’t the middle ages anymore and Dean couldn’t pin him to the floor, force the bite on him and carry him off. It wasn’t something Dean would have done even if he had the choice. He wanted to woo his mate. He wanted Castiel to want him and to want his bite.

  
With that in mind, he presented the box of fresh donuts to Castiel. The first rule of wooing – prove that he was a good provider. If Castiel wanted them, Dean would hunt him down rabbits or deer, but he seemed happy enough accepting the box of donuts.

 

“People don’t normally apologize for bumping into each other on the street,” Castiel said softly, opening the box and smiling. “These smell good. Should I get some coffee?”

 

“Coffee would be great,” Dean agreed. “Do you mind if I sit down?” he gestured to the floral patterned couch and Castiel nodded quickly.

 

“Yes, of course,” he said, passing the box of donuts back to Dean. “I’ll be right back with the coffee.”

 

He disappeared through a closed door into the kitchen. There were two other closed doors. One likely led to the bathroom and the other one to Castiel’s bedroom. Dean sniffed the air surreptitiously, setting the box of donuts down on the coffee table. He would have liked to get a closer look at Castiel’s bedroom. Now he was in the house he could smell that it was only Castiel living there. There was no scent of another man. Dean wanted to get up, to go into the bedroom and bury his face in Castiel’s sheets, ensure there was no man there either but he had more self-control than that.

 

He took one of the donuts out of the box, bit into it and turned his attention to the books and papers strewn over the coffee table. He turned the nearest one towards him and nearly choked on his mouthful as he read the title.

 

‘Werewolves: Facts and Fictions’.

 

He cleared his throat, swallowed quickly and picked up the next book.

 

‘The Mythology of Wolves’.

 

The kitchen door banged open and Castiel came out carrying a battered tray with two mugs set on it. There was also a little jug of milk and a pot of sugar.  

 

“I didn’t know what you liked,” he said, placing the tray down on the coffee table in front of Dean.

 

“I’m sorry for the mess,” he said again, starting to collect the books and papers. “I was going through them before you came. I’m trying to decide what to keep and what to give away.”

 

“What are they for? You’ve got a lot of books on wolves,” Dean said, trying to sound nonchalant about it. He took the nearest mug, adding sugar but no milk.

 

“They were for my final paper, I just graduated,” Castiel said, shoving them back on to a book case. “I was an English literature student, for my sins, and I wrote my final paper on Red Riding Hood.”

 

“Red Riding Hood?”

 

“There’s a lot of symbolism. The original French version doesn’t have the happy ending everyone knows, with the woodcutter turning up to save the little girl,” Castiel said. He glanced away from Dean, then back to him, looking at him from under his lashes. It was provocative. “In the original version the wolf isn’t even in the bed. It’s all a metaphor for sex. The wolf invites Red in, tells her to undress and lie down on the bed and then devours her. It’s a cautionary tale.”

 

Castiel’s cheeks were flushed; his eyes bright and Dean could smell the pheromones rolling off him. He was excited by the thought of the story, by the idea of a devouring, lecherous wolf. Dean didn’t even need the clues in Castiel’s scent to tell him that the boy was a virgin. He was an open book.

 

“Be careful, there are wolves out there,” Dean quipped lightly although he didn’t feel light.

 

He felt desire coursing through him. Castiel was a virgin, he knew that now, he could smell that on him and it took all of his self-control not to leap across the coffee table and show Castiel exactly why he should be careful around wolves. Castiel didn’t even know how delicious he was. He was sitting there, tempting Dean with every second that passed and with no idea just who or what he was talking to.

 

“As I said, I’ve graduated now. I’m working in a bookstore,” Castiel said. “What about you? What do you do?”  He looked at Dean suddenly as if he was seeing him for the first time. “I never asked you your name.”

 

He hadn’t and Dean had thought he was too quick to open the door, too willing and eager to let Dean in. He was learning quickly that Castiel wasn’t cynical or jaded. He hadn’t yet learned that there were things to be afraid of. He really was an innocent in more ways than one. It made Dean want to protect him, to shield him from the outside world and forces that could taint him or hurt him.

 

“Dean Winchester,” he said, offering his hand to Castiel to shake. “And I travel a lot for work. I’m just stopping off here for a while but I’m hoping to make it a longer visit.”

 

Castiel took hold of his hand and Dean let the contact linger, his fingers brushing down over Castiel’s wrist. He kept his gaze on Castiel and was rewarded with a blush. He let the handshake linger a few seconds longer then released Castiel.

 

He knew Castiel was attracted to him. He could smell it rolling off him in waves but that wasn’t the only thing. He’d felt Castiel’s pulse when he touched his wrist, he’d felt how it was racing. He’d stared into the young man’s eyes and he’d seen his pupils dilate. Castiel was sitting there; giving off so many signs that he was ready, that he was Dean’s if Dean wanted him.

 

Dean bit back a question asking if Castiel wanted to take this to the bedroom.

 

He wasn’t going to rush things like that. Castiel might be physically attracted to him but that didn’t mean he’d accept Dean’s offer of a roll in the sheets no matter how hard and aching Dean was for it. He was a virgin. He might have ideas about what he wanted his first time to be like that didn’t involve a roll in the sheets with a strange man he’d only just met. He was Dean’s mate but he was a human. He had no idea that sex with Dean meant a life time of commitment. He had no idea what Dean was.

 

Dean wanted Castiel to fall in love with him. He wanted Castiel to know the truth about everything and he wanted his trust. He wanted Castiel to offer himself up for Dean’s mark.

 

Dean had been waiting years to find Castiel. Now he’d found him, he could wait a little longer and do this thing properly. He could be so charming that Castiel couldn’t fail to fall in love with him.

 

He ate another donut and finished his cup of coffee, watching Castiel. Castiel picked at his donut, tearing it apart and eating little bits of it until he’d finished the whole thing. He then licked the sugar coating from his fingers, one by one, and Dean nearly had a heart attack watching him and imagining how else Castiel could put his tongue to use.

 

Dean coughed, getting to his feet and hoping that the bulge in his pants wasn’t too noticeable.

 

“I should get going,” he mumbled. “I hope I see you around, Castiel.”

 

“Oh,” Castiel said, seemingly surprised that Dean was cutting their coffee break short. “I hope so too, Dean.”

 

He smiled at Dean, a sweet, hopeful smile that was completely genuine.

 

Dean let himself out of the apartment, already making plans to drop in to the bookstore Castiel worked at in time for Castiel’s next shift. They could talk about books and Dean could casually ask him to come and get a drink after work. A drink would lead to dinner, and dinner to a full blown date.

 

 

Castiel couldn’t calm down. He was nervous, excited. He didn’t know what had come over him. He’d never warmed to someone as quickly as he had to Dean. He had a few friends, but he’d known them a long time. He didn’t make instant connections, but he’d made one with Dean. Even now, Castiel didn’t know why he’d invited the man up to his apartment. He’d just felt warm inside when he’d heard the man’s voice.

 

Castiel licked his lips. He could still taste the sugar caught in the corners. He had half a box of donuts sitting on his coffee table. Castiel didn’t think he’d be able to eat them all. He wished Dean would have stayed for longer, would have helped him finish the box.

 

He walked back and forth, playing their whole conversation back in his head. He wondered if he’d done something to scare Dean off. There’d been moments when he’d thought they were flirting, when he thought Dean wanted him, but he didn’t know for sure. It was frightening, thinking of Dean wanting him. Castiel hadn’t ever had the occasion to date, although he’d wanted to sometimes. He’d managed to always put something else first.

 

He supposed he was old fashioned in a lot of ways. He wanted a relationship, something solid with roots and a foundation that could grow to be a lifelong thing. It did sound hopelessly out of date when he thought about it like that, but he’d never found anyone he was willing to take a risk with. Only, now he thought he might have with Dean.

 

Castiel looked around, searching for his phone. He needed to talk to someone, tell them about the jumble of feelings swirling in his stomach. He didn’t know what to do and he needed someone to tell him. He grabbed the phone from the cradle and dialed his sister Anna’s number.

 

She picked up quickly and Castiel sunk down on to the couch in relief.

 

“Anna,” he said. “I, um, I need some advice.”

 

“What about?” Anna asked. Castiel could hear her pottering about; doing something as she talked to him and the normality of it calmed him somewhat.

 

“About men,” he said. “I think I met someone.”

 

“What do you mean you think you met someone, Castiel? Are you internet dating?” Anna asked.

 

“No, he came here. We bumped into each other on the street and there was just this connection,” Castiel said, reaching up to run a hand through his hair. He could hear himself, could hear how that sounded. It was obvious to Anna too from the intake of breath on the other end of the line.

 

“So, you and this guy? Are you calling to tell me you had sex?”

 

“No,” Castiel said, frowning. “But I wanted to.”

 

“Then go for it,” Anna advised. “Sex is fun, Castiel and it’s not a big thing. I know you’ve been waiting and you know I support you, but if you’ve met someone and you want to try something new, I support that too.”

 

Castiel bit his lip. When he thought about Dean, his inhibitions melted away. He could imagine falling into bed with Dean easily. That wasn’t all he could imagine though. He could imagine waking up in bed with Dean the morning after, bringing him coffee and curling up in his arms.

 

“I know. I just think I’d like more than sex.”

 

“Then why don’t you ask him on a date?” Anna suggested. Castiel wondered if Anna was humoring him. She made it sound so easy, and it probably was for her. Anna was confident and beautiful.

 

“I think I already scared him off. I started talking about wolves and fairy tales,” Castiel said, his frowning deepening. Dean hadn’t left then, he’d seemed genuinely interested. In fact, that was when Castiel had felt the most heat between them. Dean had seemed nervous at first, but he’d warmed to the subject quickly. “Or maybe not. Maybe he didn’t like my coffee.”

 

Anna sighed on the other end of the line. “You’re being too hard on yourself. I’m sure he likes you. You should ask him out, Castiel. The worst thing he can say is no.”

 

“Yes,” Castiel said. “I don’t want him to say no.”

 

Anna laughed.

 

“Okay, well, you know my position on this. You should take a chance.”

 

“I do know. Thanks, Anna,” Castiel said, feeling a little more confident now. “If I see him again, I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

 

“Are you working tomorrow?” Anna asked, changing the subject.

 

“Yes. I’m in from midmorning,” Castiel said.

 

“And your boss?”

 

“He’s not going to be there, Anna. He doesn’t like coming in that early.”

 

“Good,” Anna said brightly. “Have a good day at work tomorrow and remember to ask your guy out if you see him again. I love you, Castiel.”

 

“I love you too, Anna,” Castiel said, smiling as he hung up.

 

He hoped he would see Dean again. He’d try his hardest to take Anna’s advice to heart. He knew Anna was right. He needed to grasp things firmly in hand and tell Dean exactly what he wanted. He’d tell Dean he wanted to date him, that he wanted something serious.

 

Castiel just kept his fingers crossed that it wouldn’t send Dean running in the opposite direction.

 

 

Sam was lying on his bed in their motel room, idly flicking through TV channels, when Dean opened the door.

 

“I’m thinking of buying a waffle iron. It’s only $9.99 with postage and packaging,” he said, glancing at his brother without too much interest. “Where have you been?”

 

“You watch too many infomercials,” Dean said, shrugging off his jacket. He knew he was grinning. It was hard to keep the goofy look off his face. He wanted to tell Sam where he’d been so badly but he wanted Sam’s full attention when he told him. He didn’t want Sam distracted by a monthly book club or a teeth whitening commercial.   He hung his jacket up and sat down on Sam’s bed, grabbing the remote from him and turning the TV off.

 

“Hey!” Sam protested. “I was watching that!”

 

“You wanted to know where I’ve been, didn’t you?” Dean said, his mouth starting to ache, his grin so wide. “I met him, Sam. I found my mate!”

 

“What? Here?” Sam shook his head, unable to believe it. He leaned closer to Dean, sniffing him. “You don’t smell like you had sex.”

 

“I haven’t,” Dean said. “It’s a bit complicated, but the important point is that I found him.”

 

Sam nodded. Then he frowned, suddenly perplexed by something.

 

“He? Your mate is a man?” he asked.

 

“He’s cute,” Dean said, not pleased with his brother’s tone of voice. Yeah, Castiel wasn’t what he’d imagined but he was better. He was real. He was flesh and blood and that beautiful scent.

 

“I didn’t think you swung that way, that’s all,” Sam said with a small shrug of his shoulders.

 

“Maybe I’m developing my swing,” Dean said.  It didn’t matter to him that Castiel was male. It surprised him but he wasn’t repulsed by the idea, not if it was Castiel. Castiel was his mate. Dean couldn’t fail to find him anything but perfect.

 

“So, tell me about him,” Sam said, moving to sit a little closer. “What’s he like? Why haven’t you dragged him back here by the scruff of his neck like the big hairy Alpha-male you are?” He punched Dean lightly on the shoulder to show he was joking but Dean knew Sam was really curious. He could see it in his brother’s eyes.

 

“His name is Castiel Novak,” he said. “I think you’d like him, Sam. He told me he’s just graduated from college. He did English Lit, and get this, his final paper was on Little Red Riding Hood. His house is filled with books on wolves and werewolves.”

 

“He sounds….young,” Sam said, noncommittally.

 

“Yeah, I guess he is. He’s in his early twenties and man, Sam, he’s just gorgeous. He’s got these big blue eyes and this messy black hair. He looks like someone’s been dragging their fingers through it but he’s virgin and Sam, he smells so good.”

 

Sam pulled a face. “I didn’t need to know some of that, Dean.”

 

“He’s got a job in a bookshop. I’m heading there tomorrow. I’m going to ask him out for a drink.”

 

“He sounds well integrated,” Sam said. “Did you meet any of his family? Was his pack around?”

 

Dean looked away from Sam, scratching at the back of his neck. “He doesn’t have a pack.”

 

“So he’s on his own?” Sam asked. “I thought you had another Alpha breathing down your neck, acting as chaperone.”

 

Dean could see why Sam would think that way. In the natural order of things, Castiel would have his own pack. He would have been able to smell Dean, he would have scented that Dean was his mate and his family would have too. Then Dean would have had to make nice with them, maybe even prove himself to them before they let the inevitable happen and let them be together.

 

He knew what Sam was getting at. He wanted to know why, if there’d been no one stopping him, had Dean not jumped straight to the frolicking.

 

That meant Dean had to tell him the complete truth about Castiel.

 

He’d known he was going to have to at some point, but he’d wanted Sam to be excited for him. He’d wanted to bask in the glow of his brother’s approval because he knew when Sam found out that Castiel wasn’t a werewolf, he wasn’t going to be pleased.

 

“Well, you know, Castiel isn’t actual one of us,” he said quietly. “He’s a human.”

 

Sam stared at him. Then he shook his head, laughing.

 

“You’re kidding, right? I don’t think that’s even possible!” he said.

 

“It happened this time,” Dean said angrily. He didn’t think it was as rare as Sam was making out. It didn’t happen all the time but Dean was sure he’d heard from a friend of a friend about it happening to their cousin. It certainly happened all the time in the old days. There were lots of stories of tasty little virgins being carried off into the woods.

 

Sam looked at him in surprise, stuck dumb for a second. Dean knew that wouldn’t last very long.

 

“You can’t be serious, Dean! Things like this don’t happen, they can’t happen! This is ridiculous. How can you even mate with him, Dean, he’s not a werewolf! You can’t knot him! How could he even give off the right scent?”

 

Dean got up. He couldn’t sit there and let Sam rage against something that Dean knew was true. He knew Castiel was his mate. He knew it on every level imaginable. He had been waiting, he’d been looking for so long and he’d known every time before when something wasn’t right. So why couldn’t Sam trust him to know the truth now? He stalked away from Sam, pacing up and down the floor.

 

“I can always bite him, Sam. I can always make him one of us!” he snapped.

 

Castiel didn’t have to be born one of them; he could become one of them. All he had to do was bare his pretty pale throat for Dean and Dean could do the rest.

 

“Don’t you think that’s cruel?” Sam said. “He’s a human. That’s all he’s ever known. You’d be asking him to leave his life behind and come be yours forever. What if he doesn’t want to? It’s not in his physiology, Dean. He won’t feel the call to mate the way you do, he probably won’t understand it if you explain it to him. That is, if he doesn’t think you’re completely crazy when you tell him you’re a werewolf!”

 

“Do you think I didn’t think about all of that, Sam?” Dean asked angrily. “That’s why nothing happened! That’s why I’m waiting. I want him to trust me and then I’m going to tell him everything and let him make his choice. Fuck, Sam, you have no idea. He was sitting there right in front of me and I could have bitten him. It would have been easy but I’m not going to do that!”

 

“What do you want me to say, Dean? That I’m really glad you didn’t bite a defenseless human and turn him into one of us?” Sam asked him.

 

“You wouldn’t even understand how hard that is. You’re only a beta.”

 

“I understand that it’s basic decency, Dean and I’m not going to applaud you for that.”

 

“You know what? I just wanted you to be happy for me, Sam and to help me,” Dean said, turning away from Sam, digging his fingers into the palm of his hand. Sam didn’t understand that it had been a struggle. He had no idea. Dean didn’t want to be applauded; he just wanted Sam to get that.

 

Sam sighed. “But I don’t think this is right, Dean.”

 

“Just come with me tomorrow and meet him,” Dean said, turning to Sam and trying to sound persuasive. “Just meet Castiel and if you still think that I’m wrong, we can talk about it.”

 

That was as close to a compromise as Dean was willing to get on the subject. He knew he was right, even if Sam didn’t. Castiel was his mate. Every fiber of Dean’s being told him so. There was no way that scent could be faked. It was one in a million. Once Sam met Castiel, once he caught that scent too, then he’d know Dean was right.

 

“Fine,” Sam said. “I guess I could do with picking up some new books and I’ll meet this guy of yours.”

 

“I promise you Sam, when you meet him; you’re going to see things my way.”

 

Sam frowned.

 

“That doesn’t sound like you’re going to be willing to talk, Dean. It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind.”

 

“Tomorrow, Sam. We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” Dean said. He grinned at his brother, unable to be anything else but happy. His mate was real. He was a living, breathing, beautiful young man and he was right here, in this town, waiting for Dean. It didn’t matter what Sam said or what obstacles stood in their way. Dean had found his mate and that was all that mattered to him.

 

He left Sam lying on the bed, heading towards the shower. Castiel’s scent had been taunting him all afternoon, driving Dean to distraction. All he wanted to do now was get under the hot shower spray with his hand around his cock and work out some of the sexual tension that had been dogging him since he first saw Castiel.

 

 

The book shop was a huge, old building filled wall to wall with books. There was a second floor and a basement. Dean knew Sam was probably giddy. Already he’d seen his brother stroking the spines of a few choice books. They were probably going to leave with a bag full of books. That wasn’t exactly a bad thing. Sam could meet Castiel, buy himself a book or twelve and he’d come away feeling happy and Dean would get his blessing.

 

Castiel wasn’t at the till so either he was on a break or on another floor. Dean knew he was working. His scent was a constant, not the faded scent that would linger if he wasn’t here. He sniffed the air surreptitiously then clapped Sam on the shoulder.

 

“He’s downstairs. Come on,” he said, grinning at his brother.

 

Sam’s expression was torn between interest and uneasiness. Dean knew Sam didn’t believe that Castiel could really be Dean’s mate but as soon as he met him, that was going to change. Dean was certain of it. Sam wouldn’t be able to deny his own sense of smell.

 

They headed down to the basement, feet pounding on the stairs. The downstairs was a lot darker than the upstairs. There were fewer lights, the bookcases packed more tightly together and it reminded Dean, in an odd way, of a forest, a forest of books. Sam would appreciate the poetry in that. They got to the bottom of the stairs and Dean closed his eyes, breathing in deeply.

 

“This way,” he said.

 

He led Sam through a maze of bookshelves, heading deeper into the basement until he found Castiel.

 

Castiel was staking a shelf, taking paperbacks out of a box of new books. Dean glanced at the section header printed up on the top of the shelf. He groaned, rolling his eyes as he realized Castiel was putting away self-help books.

 

Dean didn’t want Castiel to think he was the sort of jerk who needed a book to tell him how to fix his life. He also didn’t want Castiel to think that he had any of the issues that self-help books were normally written about. All of Dean’s problems fell into categories Castiel probably didn’t have books on, unless someone had written a self-help book titled “Stop! Don’t Chase that Squirrel”

 

Still, Dean had Sam with him and Sam was just the sort of sap who’d lap up books about loving too much and needing to seize the day.

 

Castiel still hadn’t noticed them. Dean nudged Sam, nodding his head towards Castiel. His brother still looked uncertain, although Dean didn’t know how he could be. Castiel’s scent was overwhelming and delicious, even from where they were standing. Maybe Sam had to be closer to get the full effect.

 

Dean grabbed hold of Sam’s arm, pulling him towards Castiel.

 

“Hey, Cas,” he said, startling Castiel who dropped the book he was holding.

 

Dean bent down to pick it up at the same time as Castiel did. Their hands brushed. Castiel looked up at him, his cheeks flushing pink. The air was awash suddenly with mating pheromones. Dean licked his lips, forcing himself to stand up slowly, holding the book out for Castiel to take.

 

Castiel grabbed hold of the book, smiling shyly, and stuffed it in to the nearest free space on the shelf.

 

“I said I’d see you again, didn’t I?” Dean said, leaning in a little closer, drawn in by Castiel’s scent. It was intoxicating.

 

“You did,” Castiel agreed happily. He peered past Dean, looking at Sam with a strange expression – part interest and part jealousy. “Who’s your friend?”

 

Dean’s smile grew wider. He couldn’t help it. Jealousy was a good a sign. Castiel didn’t know that Sam was his brother. He was reacting on instinct to the possibility of a threat. Castiel might not be a werewolf, but that didn’t mean he didn’t react the same way.

 

Sam was shuffling his feet. Dean bit his lip to stop himself from laughing. Sam could smell the jealousy rolling off Castiel just as well as Dean could, even though Sam’s sense of smell wasn’t anywhere near as good as his. Dean just hoped jealousy wasn’t the only thing Sam could smell.

 

“This is my brother, Sam,” Dean said, putting Castiel out of his misery. Almost immediately the slightly bitter jealous scent vanished and Castiel brightened visibly.

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sam,” he said, offering his hand to shake.

 

“Likewise,” Sam agreed, shaking Castiel’s hand enthusiastically.

 

“Are you looking for a particular book?” Castiel asked, glancing between the two of them.

 

Dean spoke quickly, before Sam could say anything.

 

“Sam’s looking for some books on dating. You know the normal stuff. How to speak to women, that sort of thing.”

 

“Oh,” Castiel said, looking at Sam in some surprise. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have any issues like that. You look nice.”

 

Sam covered his mouth with his hand, stifling a laugh. Dean frowned, not impressed to hear that Castiel thought Sam looked nice. Nice was an adjective that could mean far too many things. Castiel might have just been being friendly but now it was Dean who was feeling jealous.

 

“Um, but we do have a large selection of books on dating,” Castiel said, seeming to realize his previous response hadn’t been completely professional.

 

Sam turned away from them then, his sleeve stuffed into his mouth to muffle his laughter, looking at the book titles there. Dean stared at Castiel, not sure what to say. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to push Castiel against the bookcase and kiss him until Castiel forgot about nice looking men and focused on Dean and Dean only.

 

He took a step towards Castiel, his fingers flexing as he fought the urge. Castiel licked his lips, rooted firmly to the spot and Dean was only a few seconds away from grabbing him when they were interrupted by a voice shouting down from the upstairs.

 

“Castiel! The owners here. He wants to talk to you.”

 

“Oh,” Castiel said, sounding disappointed. He turned away from Dean and shouted. “I’ll be right there, Gabriel!” He looked back at Dean, shrugging his shoulders apologetically. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

 

“It’s okay,” Dean said, although it really wasn’t. He knew that Castiel needed to go, that this was his job but Dean was certain he’d been about to kiss Castiel, that Castiel wanted him to. Now they were being interrupted and Dean was another step back rather than a step forward. He plastered a smile to his face and ushered Castiel away. “We’ll bump into each other again. Don’t worry about that.”

 

Dean was going to make sure they did.

 

Castiel hesitated for a second longer before running off through the stacks, his footsteps echoing on the stairs a moment later. Dean turned to look at Sam, waiting to hear his appraisal.

 

“What do you think?” he asked.

 

“He’s nice,” Sam said, grinning. “You’ll break him in two if you try to knot him.”

 

“But you do agree he’s my mate, right?” Dean asked, watching his brother intently.

 

Sam sighed, nodding his head slowly. “I still don’t like the idea, Dean, but I think he is. The scent is right and the way he reacts to you,” Sam paused, licking his lips. “This is so uncomfortable. I thought you’d meet a beta and she’d boss you around. I didn’t think you find an omega.”

 

“An omega in waiting,” Dean said, grinning. He’d known what Castiel was the first time he’d caught his scent but it was good to have Sam confirm it for him. Not only was Castiel his mate, but once he was bitten, once he was a wolf like them, they both knew Castiel was going to be an omega.

 

Dean couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Omegas were rare. Natural born omegas were rare, but the likelihood of finding a human with those natural characteristics who could be turned was like winning the lottery. Dean had never been that attracted to omegas before. They’d always seemed like hard work, but now he knew that his mate was an omega, he was seeing them in a whole different light. He couldn’t wait to have his own demanding little omega to run around after.

 

“Come on,” he said, slapping Sam on the shoulder. “Did you see any books you wanted upstairs? I’ll buy them, my treat.”

 

Sam smiled back at him and for a few seconds everything was right in Dean’s world. He bounded up the stairs, Sam following at his heals but he stopped as he reached the top of the staircase, sniffing the air. The scent that hit him made him recoil backwards. He knew that scent. It was grave dirt and death, the scent of a walking corpse. It was the scent of a vampire.

 

For one moment he thought Benny was going to be standing there, browsing the bookshelves and Dean tried to calm himself, tried to stop the hairs rising on the back of his neck. Sam was growling softly behind him. Dean knew his brother had never understood how Dean could be friends with a vampire, so if it was Benny standing there, Dean was going to have to make their excuses and leave without buying Sam any books. He got a good look around the bookshop, at the people standing around the first floor and none of them was Benny.

 

Dean honed straight in on the vampire who was standing at the checkout. He wasn’t impressive to look at. He was middle-aged with his hair thinning on the top. He didn’t look like he’d be able to go more than a couple of rounds with a fit, young, Alpha werewolf. The possibility of a fight was foremost in Dean’s mind. Having a vampire here, walking around in broad daylight, didn’t bode well.

 

Humans were wrong when they thought vampires couldn’t go out in the sunlight. They couldn’t stay in the sunlight for very long, but they could go out in the day time as long as they stayed near the inside or stuck to the shadows. Some of them, like Benny, wore big coats, hats and sunglasses to protect them from the sun’s effects. Other vampires had acclimatized better.

 

This one didn’t even seem fazed.

 

Dean could feel his teeth lengthening, claws growing, as he stalked towards the vampire. He couldn’t exactly become a full-on wolf in the middle of a bookshop, but he was having trouble keeping his instincts in check. There was a vampire in the store, vampire in the same place as his mate and his little brother. Dean was overwhelmed by the need to protect them both.

 

The vampire turned his head, eyes locking with Dean’s and he took a step towards Dean, his lip curling back to show the hint of a fang.

 

It was a challenge and Dean was ready to accept.

 

“Here you are, Mr Crowley.”

 

Castiel’s voice, pleasant and completely unaware of what was going on, cut through the tension in the air. His mate strode in between them, oblivious of the danger and handed the vampire a book.

 

The vampire looked disquieted, taking the book from Castiel’s hands.

 

“Thank you, Castiel,” he said.

 

Castiel smiled at the vampire and Dean couldn’t stop himself growling. Castiel turned his head, noticing Dean for the first time and that didn’t make Dean feel any better. He knew that Castiel was a human, that he didn’t have the same heightened senses that a supernatural creature had, but he’d thought he was important to Castiel. He’d thought Castiel would have been aware when Dean was there. He was Dean’s mate, after all.

 

“Oh, Dean,” Castiel said, looking embarrassed and Dean wondered why. “This is my boss, Mr Crowley. He asked me to order in a book for him.”

 

“Right,” Dean said. He still didn’t understand why Castiel looked embarrassed, but then the vampire placed a hand on Castiel’s shoulder, the gesture possessive and Dean got the message loud and clear.

 

“Are you a friend of Castiel?” the vampire, Crowley, asked lightly, but Dean was watching his grip on Castiel’s shoulder. It wasn’t light.

 

“Yes, a good friend,” Dean clarified.

 

“Funny. He’s never mentioned you before,” Crowley said.

 

“I should really get back to work,” Castiel said quickly, shooting Dean an apologetic smile, but Dean was too busy wondering how he’d missed the fact that there was a goddamned vampire in Castiel’s life. He knew there was no trace of Crowley in Castiel’s apartment and Castiel didn’t smell like he’d been marked but that didn’t mean anything. There was still a vampire, touching Castiel and challenging Dean.

 

“Of course,” Crowley said, his grip on Castiel softening, stroking over his shoulder. “But don’t work too hard, Castiel. You wouldn’t want to wear yourself out.”

 

Castiel nodded, slipping away from them and upstairs. Dean’s ears perked up, picking up the sounded of a muffled conversation, someone asking Castiel what was going on, but Dean’s attention was fixed on the vampire.

 

He had to make it clear that he had a claim on Castiel. He needed the vampire to back off.

 

“Crowley,” he said.

 

“Werewolf,” Crowley said brightly, a little louder than Dean would have liked. “I didn’t expect I’d have to deal with one of you.”

 

“I’m warning you, alright, back off,” Dean said, forgetting formalities. “That’s my mate you had your grubby hands on. If you touch him again, I’ll rip your arm off.”

 

Crowley smiled.

 

“Your mate? How very old-fashioned. Am I supposed to step aside because of your biological imperative?”

 

“You’re supposed to step aside because otherwise I’ll tear your throat out.”

 

Crowley’s smile didn’t falter. He moved closer to Dean, beckoning him to lean in with a crook of his finger.

 

“Castiel is an innocent,” he said, his voice low, just for Dean. “I’m sure you can smell that. He’s untainted. Pure.”

 

“That’s a lot of fancy talk when you just mean virgin,” Dean said angrily.

 

Crowley’s eyes danced with silent mirth. He was enjoying Dean’s displeasure. That had been one thing Dean had always despised about vampires. They liked to play with their food.

 

“So, what?  You want to make a meal out of him? Virgins are rare, but I’m sure you can find another one. Or maybe give up blood altogether. I hear it’s bad for a vampire’s life expectancy to go around biting too many necks.”

 

Dean was sure the threat in his words was implicit but Crowley was still smiling at him. It was unnerving.

 

“I don’t just want to drink from him,” Crowley said. “I want to turn him. Just think of how beautiful he’ll be, all that innocence corrupted.”

 

“You sick bastard!” Dean hissed.

 

He grabbed Crowley by the front of his coat, ready to shake some sense into him, his teeth bared but then someone was dragging him away, forcing Dean to put the vampire down.

 

“Dean, stop it!” Sam hissed in his ear. “We’re in public!”

 

Crowley still didn’t seem ruffled. He smoothed down the front of his coat then looked up at Dean.

 

“I think you’ll find you are now barred from this store. If you try to come here again, I’ll have you thrown out. And if you continue to come here, I’ll have you arrested.”

 

Dean snarled, lunging forward but Sam’s grip was surprisingly strong. He dragged Dean towards the front door. Dean got one glimpse of Castiel’s worried face, peering down at him from the top floor, before he was out on the street.

 

He shoved Sam away from him.

 

“Let me back in there,” he growled. Sam blocked his path.

 

“No,” he said. “You’re not thinking straight. He’s going to call the cops, Dean!”

 

“I don’t care! Castiel is in there.”

 

“And he doesn’t know his boss is a vampire. He just saw you attack the man for no reason, Dean.”

 

“I had a good reason, I was protecting him!” Dean began to pace up and down, glancing back at the door. Castiel was inside. He was with that vampire, a monster who’d told Dean exactly how he was planning to ruin Castiel’s life. Dean was ready to throw himself through the window and carry Castiel to safety.

 

“Yes, but Castiel doesn’t know that! He’s a human, Dean. If you get yourself arrested, do you really think he’s going to want to see you again?”

 

Dean stared at his brother. He knew that Sam was right. Castiel had no idea what was happening. Dean had been running on instinct and the vampire had played on his weaknesses. He’d manipulated Dean into getting himself thrown out of the store, in front of Castiel. He’d managed to make Dean seem violent and unpredictable. It would be a miracle if Castiel ever wanted to see him again and what would Dean say if he did? How could he explain to Castiel that he’d attacked his boss because the man was a vampire who wanted to drink Castiel’s blood?

 

“I can’t leave him in there, Sam,” Dean whined.

 

Sam patted him on the arm, his expression sympathetic.

 

“I know. Come on, we’ll go across the street. There’s a bar. We’ll get a drink and you can watch for him. I don’t think that vampire is going to bite him in the middle of a crowded store.”

 

“If he turns him, Sam….”

 

Dean couldn’t finish the sentence. The words stuck in his throat. If Crowley turned Castiel, if he made him a vampire like himself, then he’d be lost to Dean forever. Dean couldn’t be mated to a vampire. He’d go insane, knowing that he could never be with Castiel. Crowley would destroy them both.

 

“I know,” Sam said. He patted Dean on the shoulder, his hand lingering and Dean knew Sam was worried. He didn’t need the added proof of Sam’s scent to know that. “Come on, let’s get a drink. Maybe we can catch Castiel when he finishes his shift.”

 

 

The whisky he’d been nursing hadn’t done anything to make Dean feel better. Sam had bought him the drink but he’d also ensured that was the only one Dean had. Dean had been sipping at it slowly, struggling with the desire to knock it back in one gulp and stride back into the bookstore. He wanted to snatch Castiel up and carry him off. It was irrational and completely animal. Still, with each small sip of his whisky, Dean had realized just how irrational it was.

 

He was glad Sam hadn’t lost his head back in the store and even gladder that Sam knew how to manage him. He wished he didn’t need managing. Finding his mate was supposed to save Dean’s sanity, to stop him tipping off the deep end into wild, unmanageable wolf territory. Dean had never stopped to consider what would happen if he found his mate but couldn’t be with him.

 

He took another sip from his glass, the burn on his tongue a strange reassurance.

 

It would be worse, he thought, if he lost Castiel. Never finding him would have been painful, a slow decline, slipping away into the safety of his wolf form and turning completely feral. Eventually, he would have stopped feeling, he would have stopped knowing.

 

If Castiel was snatched away from him, right out of his fingers, Dean knew he’d just snap. There’d be no prevention, no possibility of a cure. He’d become an animal, ruled only by instinct – the instinct to hunt and to kill.

 

Dean licked his lips.

 

If Castiel was turned, if he became a vampire, would Dean hurt him? Would he kill him? Would the rejection be too much for him? If he couldn’t have Castiel then he wouldn’t let anyone have him.  Would that be the end result for them?

 

Dean finished his glass of whiskey, unable to stand the possible future he saw in front of him.

 

He was an Alpha, he was possessive and jealous, it was part of who he was and he couldn’t change that but Dean had always thought he stayed on the right side of his emotions, that he was protective. Now, he wasn’t so sure.

 

“Hey,” Sam said, breaking Dean out of his thoughts. “They’re locking up shop. Castiel is out there.”

 

“Right,” Dean said. He got up; leaving his chair pushed out and ran for the door.

 

Castiel was out in front of the store, his book bag slung over his shoulder, chatting to a short guy with dirty blond hair who was bolting the door at the bottom. Dean rushed across the street, not stopping to check for cars.

 

“Cas!” he called, coming to a stop a few feet away from the young man. Castiel looked up at him, his eyes widening and he gripped the strap of his book bag, looking as if he might be about to heft it off his shoulder and hit Dean with it.

 

“What do you want, Dean?” he asked.

 

“I want to explain!”

 

“Explain what?” chimed in the other guy, getting to his feet. “You attacked our boss and you’re obviously a violent nut.”

 

“Gabriel,” Castiel hissed.

 

Dean glanced over the man again, glad he could finally put a face to who Gabriel was, but not so pleased by the attitude.

 

“I’m not a nut. I had a good reason for doing what I did.”  

 

“Oh yeah? What?” Gabriel asked, folding his arms and glaring at Dean, waiting for an answer. Dean hadn’t been expecting he’d need to explain what he’d done to anyone other than Cas, but Gabriel seemed to have set himself up as some kind of guardian that Dean needed to convince.

 

“He was saying things about Castiel, disgusting things. I didn’t think he should be allowed to get away with that.”

 

“Oh,” Gabriel said, looking disappointed that Dean had given a reasonable sounding answer. He relaxed slight, looking towards Castiel for guidance.

 

“He’s like that sometimes. I don’t like him very much,” Castiel said quietly. “I don’t like the way he touches me or the way he looks at me.”

 

Dean felt a small sense of relief. He’d expected Castiel to be enchanted or possibly compelled but it didn’t appear as if Crowley had had any effect on him. Maybe the vampire hadn’t even bothered. Some of them were cocky bastards who assumed they’d naturally have enough magnetism to seduce their prey without resorting to tricks. Castiel could also be one of the very few people who were immune to a vampire’s charms.

 

“Why do you work here if you don’t like your boss?” Dean found himself saying, the words more accusing then he meant them to be.

 

Castiel frowned. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Dean, but there aren’t exactly a lot of jobs around at the moment. I need this job and Crowley isn’t there all the time.”

 

“And you can’t complain to anyone?”

 

“Hey, I hide Cas in the stockroom or downstairs when Crowley turns up, but he always asks for him,” Gabriel interrupted angrily. “It’s not as if we do nothing.”

 

Castiel smiled softly, gratefully at Gabriel.

 

“It really isn’t worth anyone losing their jobs over. He just makes me uncomfortable but I can live with that.”

 

“You shouldn’t have to,” Dean said with feeling.

 

Castiel tipped his head to one side, studying Dean, his brow furrowing as he did but it was Gabriel who spoke.

 

“Why does it matter to you?”

 

“It just does,” Dean said angrily. “Am I not allowed to care?”

 

Castiel smiled softly. “No, you can care. It’s just…”

 

“It’s just that I don’t trust you,” Gabriel said. “I don’t trust anyone who shows a lot of undue interest in Castiel.”

 

Dean gritted his teeth. Gabriel was like some anti-romance gremlin. Dean had wanted to be alone with Castiel. He’d wanted to quietly discuss his interest in him without a chaperone breathing down their necks.

 

“My interest isn’t undue,” he said awkwardly. “And, for the record, you’re reading too many books. No one talks like that in real life. Anyway, my interest is perfectly normal. I just want to get to know Castiel better.”

 

“Gabriel, really, I’m fine,” Castiel said. “You can leave us alone. I don’t think Dean’s dangerous.”

 

“Right,” Gabriel said. He looked between the two of them, shaking his head. “Just remember I’m only a phone call away and make sure he wears a condom.”

 

“Gabriel!” Castiel hissed, his cheeks bright red.

 

Gabriel ginned, giving them a jaunty wave before he jogged off down the street.

 

“I apologize for him. I’m not sure he’s ever been properly socialized,” Castiel said, covering his eyes with a hand then peeking out from under it to look at Dean.

 

“Yeah, I got that vibe,” Dean agreed. Now he was alone with Castiel, he wasn’t sure what to say. He licked his lips, unable to get Gabriel’s condom comment out of his mind. That was where he wanted them to end up, in bed, with Castiel rutting underneath him. He could bite him then. “Uh, can I walk you home?”

 

“Yes, I’d like that,” Castiel said. He glanced up and down the street, seeming to be searching for someone. “Weren’t you with your bother before?”

 

“Yeah, but he’s having a drink. Don’t worry, Sam’s a big boy, he can take care of himself.”

 

Castiel smiled. “That’s good then. I’d rather walk home with just you.”

 

“Yeah?” Dean asked. He knew flirting when he heard it. Impulsively he reached out, taking hold of Castiel’s hand. “Let’s get you home.”

 

The walk back to Castiel’s apartment was far too short for Dean’s liking. Sometimes people paused to looked at them, looked at their clasped hands but Dean only tightened his grip. He didn’t care what people thought. Humans had silly, pointless prejudices. Wolves had moved past that. It didn’t matter to Dean that Castiel was a man. All that mattered to him was that Castiel was his mate.

 

They reached the steps of Castiel’s apartment block and Castiel carefully untwined their fingers.

  
“Thank you,” he said quietly.

 

Dean got the feeling he wasn’t going to be invited up. It had been too much to hope for. He’d known Castiel a total of two days and although Castiel had accepted his explanation for his previous behavior, it didn’t mean he was going to fall straight in to Dean’s arms.

 

“It was a pleasure,” he said. “Can I see you again?”

 

“Are you asking me out?” Castiel asked. He smiled, his eyes sparkling with warmth and Dean could smell how hopeful he was, how much he wanted Dean to ask him. Castiel might not be ready to invite Dean upstairs, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t want to see Dean again.

 

“Yes,” Dean said quickly. “I want to take you to dinner. Is anywhere good around here?”

 

“I could cook for you,” Castiel said eagerly. “I mean, there is a diner and they do some nice things, but I could make something at home.”

 

“I’d like that,” Dean said, unable to keep the grin off his face. “Tomorrow?”

 

“Yes,” Castiel agreed, nodding. He paused for a moment then darted back down the steps, pressing a kiss to Dean’s cheek. It was a soft, gentle kiss, barely even there and then Castiel was gone, rushing back up the stairs and buzzing himself in. Dean watched him go, his smile wide.

 

He touched his fingers to his cheek.

 

Castiel wanted him.

 

Dean set off, heading back to the motel, a spring in his step now that he knew everything was back on track. There was the vampire to deal with but as long as Castiel accepted Dean’s bite first, there wasn’t anything the vampire could do. Castiel didn’t even like the man, but he liked Dean. He’d even offered to prepare a meal for him. Castiel couldn’t know that was an old custom, a tradition.

 

It would have been a bit more like the authentic custom if he was offering to prepare a meal from a kill Dean had brought him However Dean thought Castiel probably wouldn’t be too impressed if he turned up carrying a few rabbits or half a dead deer.

 

There were things to worry about but Dean was confident he could overcome them. Castiel wanted to be with him. Castiel was his mate. Those were the things that were important. Vampires were just a little problem and Dean was good at dealing with problems.

 

 

Sam was sitting on the edge of his bed, waiting expectantly, when Dean returned to the motel. Dean knew his brother wanted to know what had happened, what Castiel said and if everything was resolved. He shrugged off his jacket, hanging it up and flopped down on to his own bed, smiling up at the ceiling.

 

“Dean,” Sam whined, reaching out to shove at his shoulder. “What happened? I saw you two going off together. What happened?”

 

“Castiel invited me to dinner. He’s going to cook for me,” Dean said, still unable to stop smiling.

 

“Oh,” Sam said, a small smile breaking out on his own face.

 

Dean considered telling Sam about the kiss, but he thought he’d sound too much like a teenage girl, mooning over her crush. Soon enough, he was going to get a lot more from Castiel than just a kiss. Once that had happened, he could embarrass his baby brother with all the details.

 

“Do you know what he’s going to cook?” Sam asked.

 

“No idea,” Dean said. He really didn’t care what Castiel made. All he cared about was the two of them eating a meal together and the possibility of what could come after.

 

“Careful,” Sam teased. “He could be a vegetarian.”

 

Dean rolled on his side, facing his brother, his face slackened in horror.

 

“Don’t even joke about things like that, Sam!” he said, horrified.

 

Sam laughed as Dean continued to glare at him. Who had ever heard of a vegetarian werewolf? Even Sam with his fads and worries about red meat ate chicken. The thought of turning up at Castiel’s apartment and being present with a plate of vegetables was too horrible to contemplate.

 

Sam’s laughter died away and Dean found himself suddenly faced with a much more somber Sam.

 

“What about the vampire? What did you say to him?” he asked.

 

“I told him that the guy was being a jerk. Castiel didn’t mind. His boss is constantly harassing him. I think he was kind of impressed.” Dean couldn’t help the wolfish grin that spread across his face. Castiel had enjoyed his display of strength. He’d liked that Dean was possessive over him and that he’d tried to protect him.

 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Don’t get too cocky, Dean. A vampire is bad news.”

 

“You worry too much,” Dean said.

 

“He could compel him, Dean,” Sam said earnestly. “There wouldn’t be anything you could do if he bit Castiel.”

 

“I know that,” Dean snapped. He didn’t want Sam reminding him repeatedly. It wasn’t as if Dean wasn’t aware of the danger. He just knew that Crowley didn’t have any power over Castiel. Dean had been to Castiel’s apartment, he’d walked Castiel home. There was no trace of Crowley anywhere in Castiel’s life apart from the bookshop. Castiel was untainted by him. “I think Castiel might be one of those people vampires don’t affect.”

 

“Are you sure?” Sam asked.

 

Dean shrugged. “He thinks Crowley’s a creep. Does that sound like someone who’s compelled to you?”

 

“No, I’d expect him to be fawning,” Sam admitted begrudgingly. “Let’s just hope that you’re right.”

 

“Of course I’m right,” Dean said. He rolled off the bed and stood up, stretching. He was feeling too excited to sit down. Tomorrow he was going to see Castiel and he was going to make his move. “I’m going to go for a run,” he said to Sam. Otherwise he wouldn’t sleep; he’d just stay up all night, his whole body tensed in anticipation. There were only two cures as far as Dean knew – he could either go for a long run to get the adrenaline out of his system or he could jump in the shower and stroke himself off until the tension was gone.

 

For Sam’s sake, he picked running.

 

He knew his brother put up with a lot, but he didn’t think Sam was patient enough to stand another couple of hours of Dean in the shower, acting out his own personal mating fantasies.

 

Sam’s hearing was too good for a start.

 

 

Dean arrived back at the motel exhausted. He fell straight in to bed, dragging the covers up over his head, not bothering to wake Sam up and tell him he was home. The moment his head hit the pillow, he was asleep, but his sleep was not a peaceful one.

 

All through the night he was plagued with dreams. Horrible, gruesome dreams that felt real. He saw Castiel, pale and drained of blood, two puncture wounds in his throat. As Dean watched, the two little holes grew until Castiel’s throat was ripped open and Dean staggered back, knowing with the certainty of a dream, that he was the one who’d killed him.

 

Dean woke up, panting for breath, a feeling of dread settled in his bones.

 

He had to claim Cas tonight. He had to claim his mate or else everything was going to end in a bloodbath for all of them.

 

 

Castiel hummed under his breath as he chopped the onion. He found the noise soothing and it helped him fall in to rhythm as he cooked. After a hurried phone call to Anna, he’d decided to make a lasagna. He hadn’t asked Dean what he wanted for dinner, but he didn’t think he could go wrong with a lasagna.

 

Dean seemed like the kind of man who’d enjoy something rich and meaty. Just in case he didn’t though, Castiel had some bagged salad ready to pour in to a bowl. Castiel considered it a garnish alongside the main meal. He’d much rather tuck in to a nice juicy burger than a salad any day.

 

Castiel had felt so proud being able to tell his sister that he’d done it, he’d asked Dean out on a date. He omitted the part where Dean had attacked his boss. Castiel hadn’t been sure if that would make Anna warm to Dean or not. She disliked Crowley intently, so it might have been a plus for her. Still, Castiel wanted to take his time. He wanted to have dinner with Dean tonight. If things went well, he’d invite Dean to stay over and then to stay for longer. If things went well, he’d introduce Dean and Anna and he’d be able to tell Anna that Dean was his boyfriend.

 

He finished chopping the onions, picking up the chopping board and pushing the onions in to the pan with the side of his knife. The pan was already warm with a little oil poured in, ready to start caramelizing.

 

There was a knock on the door.

 

Castiel looked up at his kitchen clock in surprise. Dean was early. Castiel was still putting together the sauce for the lasagna. He hadn’t even got around to putting the layers together. Castiel reached out, turning off the gas hob, and wiped his hands on the towel he kept hanging up on a peg next to the draining board.

 

“You’re early,” he called, heading out in to the living room towards the front door. “I hope you don’t mind waiting around while I finish cooking.”

 

He opened the door, butterflies in his stomach, expecting Dean on the other side, but he got a nasty shock.

 

Crowley was standing on the other side.

 

“Oh,” Castiel said, unable to hide his confusion or his disappointment. He tried to cover it quickly. “I…Mr Crowley, I wasn’t expecting to see you. I have a friend coming to dinner.”

 

He wondered if Crowley had come to talk about Dean. Maybe he’d come to tell Castiel he was no longer employed because of the incident that had happened that afternoon. Castiel took a deep breath, feeling his stomach lurch unpleasantly. He was scrapping by at the moment. He didn’t know what he’d do without a job.

 

“Yes, I know,” Crowley said, stepping inside the apartment. “Gabriel was very helpful once I finally cornered him.”

 

“Gabriel?” Castiel said. He felt a hot flush of anger in him, a stab of betrayal because he’d told Gabriel about his date in confidence. He hadn’t expected Gabriel to blab to everyone about it.

 

“Yes. He didn’t want to tell me, but I made him,” Crowley said. “He should be waking up about now, wondering what he’s doing in the stock room. He won’t remember what he said.”

 

Castiel’s eyes widened and he stepped away, fear sweeping over him. Something was very, very wrong.

 

“What did you do to him? Did you drug him?” he asked accusingly. His fears about his job were completely gone.

 

Crowley smiled at him. A slow, creeping smile that made Castiel shiver.

 

“I didn’t have to do anything like that,” he said.

 

“I think you should leave,” Castiel said, taking a deep breath and drawing himself up. He wasn’t going to be intimidated in his own home, especially not by someone who was taunting him with the fact that he’d just hurt Castiel’s friend. Castiel could always find another job. He’d wait tables or stack shelves at the local market. He’d do anything rather than work for a Crowley any longer. “And you can consider this my two weeks’ notice.”

 

Castiel could leave a note for Dean. He’d go to the store and make sure Gabriel was alright, he’d call the cops if he had to. He didn’t know what Crowley thought he was doing, coming to Castiel’s apartment, trying to frighten him, but if he’d thought this was going to endear him to Castiel in some way then he was wrong.

 

Crowley kept smiling. It was unnerving.

 

“Get out,” Castiel said again, angrily. “Dean is going to be here soon.”

 

He hoped that that would ruffle Crowley. Dean hadn’t held back yesterday and Castiel didn’t think he’d be too pleased to find Crowley here in Castiel’s apartment now.

 

He smiled despite himself, thinking about Dean. He felt safe when he thought about him. Dean would be here soon and then Crowley would have to leave or face getting a broken nose.

 

Crowley’s smile faded.

 

“Dean?” he said, in the same tone he might use if he was discussing something vile he’d just stepped in. “You invited him here? You really have no standards, Castiel.”

 

“Get out,” Castiel said again, in no mood to listen to Crowley. He wondered how the man could be so brazen. It was as if he had no concept of manners or normality. He might talk nicely, with a honeyed tone, but everything he said was disgusting.

 

“I don’t think you understand,” Crowley said, stepping closer to Castiel.

 

He grabbed his chin and forced Castiel to look at him. Castiel found himself staring at him, unable to look away. He wanted to, he was frightened. He could feel his heart racing and he was acutely aware of the pulsing of his blood. He was terrified, but he was rooted to the spot.

 

“You are mine, Castiel,” Crowley intoned, dropping his hand. “You will come with me and you will do everything I ask of you. Nod once if you understand me.”

 

Despite himself, Castiel found himself nodding.

 

“Good boy,” Crowley murmured. “We’re going to go for a little walk now. Come along.”

 

He offered his arm for Castiel to take, and Castiel did. He felt as if he was in a fog. He was screaming inside his head, screaming to stop, but he couldn’t.

 

He wasn’t in control of himself any more. Crowley was in control of him now. The only thing Castiel could do was leave the door ajar as they passed through.

 

Crowley hadn’t told him anything about shutting it after all.

 

 

Dean worried about if he should bring a gift or not. He thought about a bottle of wine, but he didn’t really like wine. A bottle of whiskey wasn’t exactly the same thing. It suggested a hard drinking lifestyle that might not endear Dean to Castiel. Chocolates seemed too forced and cheesy, as if they’d escaped from Valentine’s Day.

 

Eventually, Dean settled on a fresh bouquet of flowers. They looked nice, they smelled nice and he thought Castiel would appreciate them. He picked a bunch of white and blue flowers. The blue ones reminded him of Castiel’s eyes. He tried to tell himself that flowers were a unisex gift and not particularly girly, but he felt a little unmanned as he described what he wanted. The fact that Castiel would like them sustained him, though.

 

He jogged up the stairs of Castiel’s apartment block, bouquet in hand, and pressed the buzzer. There was no reply. Dean frowned. He sniffed the air, aware that something didn’t smell right but the scent was faded, a few hours old already. He pressed the buzzer again but once again there was no response from Castiel.

 

Just then, someone came out of the building. Dean politely caught the door and held it open for them, then nipped inside. He ran up the stairs, his heart pounding, hoping that Castiel was just knee deep in dishes or distracted by stirring something on the stove.

 

When he reached the third floor, his heart sank.

 

Castiel’s door was open.

 

Castiel might have been a bit naïve, he might have been less careful than he could have been, but Dean was sure Castiel would never just leave his door wide open and unlocked. He stepped inside the apartment, not sure what he’d find.

 

He put the flowers down on the coffee table, sniffing the air again. The troubling scent was stronger here than it had been downstairs. Dean could put a name to it now. It was the scent of a vampire and not just any vampire, but Crowley.

 

Dean bolted in to the bedroom, half-expecting to find Castiel’s body stretched out on the bed but there was nothing, no sign of him. The bed was perfectly made, untouched. Dean wandered out and in to the kitchen. There were pans on the stove, food half-cooked. It looked as if Castiel had been disturbed in the middle of preparing dinner.

 

Dean checked in the bathroom, just in case there was a body in the bathtub, but it was spotless.

 

Dean stood in the middle of the room, trying to piece together what had happened. He thought he had a good idea. Castiel had been cooking when he’d been interrupted. Crowley had been there, in the apartment and he’d done something to Castiel – compelled him or forced him – and he’d made Castiel leave with him.

 

There was a soft tap on the door. Dean looked up to see a stranger standing there. The man was in pajamas and a bathrobe, slippers on his feet. He was unshaved and bedraggled. Dean didn’t need to be a werewolf to smell the booze on his breath. He stank of it.

 

“What do you want?” he snapped.

 

“Are you Dean?” the guy said, shuffling his feet. “I’m Chuck, I live next door. Castiel said he had someone coming for dinner.”

 

“Yes, I’m Dean,” Dean said, wondering where this conversation was going.

 

“I thought…there was a guy here before, Castiel left with him, I thought he might be Dean but he didn’t seem right somehow. The name didn’t fit,” the man said, waving his hands in front of himself, trying to articulate through gestures just what he meant. “I’m a writer. Some names just don’t fit certain people and that guy wasn’t a Dean.”

 

“When was he here?” Dean snapped.

 

Chuck looked up at him, blinking blearily. “About an hour ago, I think.”

 

“Right,” Dean said, pushing past Chuck on his way out the door. “Thanks for the information.”

 

He ran down the stairs and out the front door. He looked both ways up and down the street then took a deep breath. He caught Castiel’s scent, intermingled with that of the vampire’s and took off towards the right, following the trail they’d left behind.

 

 

It was beginning to grow dark. Dean had expected the trail to lead to a house with a high wall or a big fence around it, the sort of place that cost a lot of money and was designed to keep people out. What he wasn’t expecting was for the trail to lead to the woodland area around the town. Castiel’s scent was so strong against the earthy backdrop of dirt and mulch. It stood out, too sweet.

 

Dean hesitated at the edge of the woods. He dug his phone out of his pocket. He pressed Sam’s number, waiting impatiently for his brother to pick up. He didn’t like this and he didn’t want to wait. Dean couldn’t shake the feeling that every moment he spent waiting, every moment he wasn’t actively looking for Castiel, was a moment wasted.

 

Finally, Sam picked up.

 

“Hi,” he said.

 

“I need you to meet me in the woods,” Dean said breathlessly. “Don’t ask questions, just get here. Follow my scent. Castiel’s in danger. That vampire has him. I need you to get here and back me up, Sam.”

 

“Right,” Sam said.

 

Dean disconnected the call. He breathed in again, another great lungful of Castiel’s scent. It was still human. That hadn’t changed yet. Dean might have enough time to call someone else.

 

He dialed Benny’s number, relieved when his friend picked up faster than Sam had managed too.

 

“Benny,” he said, interrupting Benny before he could get started on his polite hellos. “I need some information. What’s the best way to kill a vampire?”

 

“Straight to business, I see,” Benny muttered dryly. “Taking off its head should do it, Dean. Why do you need to know?”

 

“I’m about to kill a vampire, that’s why,” Dean said. “I found my mate, Benny. There’s just one of your lot involved. He wants my mate for his own.”

 

“Where are you? That little place? Angel’s something or other?” Benny asked, sounding worried.

 

“Yeah, Angel Falls, why?” Dean asked. He glanced around, looking up at the darkening night sky. He couldn’t wait around any longer. “I’m heading in to the woods, Benny. I might lose you.”

 

“Hang up, I’m going to try to get to you,” Benny said.

 

Dean grinned. “You going to try and stop me?” he asked.

 

“No, I’m going to help you,” Benny said. The line went dead.

 

Dean shut his phone and pushed it back in to his pocket. He set off at a run.

 

He at least had some idea of where he was going, but he couldn’t understand why Crowley would bring Castiel all the way out in to the woods. Maybe he wanted this confrontation, maybe he was daring Dean to come and find him. Maybe he wanted Dean to follow them and find out he was too late. Or maybe it was the call of the night? Dean wondered if vampires felt it the same way that a werewolf did. There was safety at night, a feeling of belonging that didn’t exist in the day time.

 

Dean ran through the trees, following a path that didn’t seem to be leading anywhere until he burst out through an overgrown bush and found himself standing in a clearing.

 

Moonlight bathed the clearing in a serene silvery glow, illuminating the aging vampire and the young man standing there.

 

Dean resisted the urge to throw his head back and howl. He wasn’t about to transform into a monster against his will. He felt the tug of the moon, he felt his animalistic side rising to the surface, but Dean didn’t change unless he allowed himself to. He was in control at all times, despite what the stuff of myth and legend suggested.

 

If Crowley had hoped a full burst of moonlight would stop Dean in his tracks, then he’d been watching too many horror movies.

 

“You’re here,” Crowley said, sounding far too confident. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

 

“What have you done to Castiel?” Dean asked nervously. Castiel was standing listlessly at Crowley’s side. He didn’t seem to have noticed the fact that Dean was there. He was staring in front of him, his expression completely blank.

 

Crowley pushed him forward with a hand to the small of his back. “Why don’t you inspect him?” he said.

 

Dean rushed forward, looking Castiel over, his gaze sweeping up and down over Castiel’s neck but there was no bite mark there.

 

“Cas? Are you okay?” he asked. Castiel blinked slowly but didn’t say anything. It worried Dean even more.

 

He took hold of Castiel’s hands, turning them upwards but there was no bite there either. Castiel let himself be pulled around, showing no discomfort. He didn’t seem to care at all. He couldn’t see any marks on Castiel and when he sniffed, there was no hint of a taint in his blood, but something was wrong. It was obviously wrong. There was no sparkle in his eyes, no sign of life. This wasn’t the animated, excited Castiel that Dean had first met. It wasn’t the Castiel he was in love with. Crowley had done something to him. He’d made Castiel in to a beautiful shell and completely robbed him of everything else.

 

He drew away from Castiel, shaking his head.

 

“What did you do to him?” he asked, glaring at Crowley.

 

“I’ve made him better,” Crowley said, smirking. “He was too difficult before. Now he’s just the way I wanted him. Now he’s dutiful.”

  
Dean felt a bubble of panic rise up in his chest. He grabbed hold of Castiel, shaking him.

 

“Come on, Cas! Snap out of it,” he begged. He realized, with a sinking feeling, exactly what Crowley had done. Castiel was compelled. He wasn’t in his own mind. The real Castiel was lost somewhere in there.

 

Crowley laughed.

 

“He’s happy like this,” he said. “Go on, Castiel, tell him how you want to be with me. Tell him how you’ve made your choice.”

 

Mechanically, Castiel opened his mouth.

 

“I want to be with Crowley,” he said, his voice soft and low. “I want to be his.”

 

“No, Cas,” Dean said, looking at Castiel in desperation. “No, you don’t! This isn’t even you talking. This is Crowley talking; it’s just the things he’s told you to say!”

 

“I want to be with Crowley,” Castiel repeated. “I would never want to be with an animal like you.”

 

Dean stepped back, letting Castiel go. He knew for certain now that those words didn’t come from Castiel. He'd been frightened for a few seconds that Crowley would compel Castiel to truthfully tell how he felt about Dean but Castiel calling him an animal had crushed that fear. Everything Castiel was saying was had been planted there by Crowley. He was repeating the words he’d been told to say. Castiel didn’t know that Dean was a werewolf. He didn’t know he was anything more than human.

 

Animal was what Crowley had called Dean in the bookshop. Animal was how Crowley thought of him.

 

Dean bared his teeth.

 

If Crowley thought he was an animal, then an animal he would be.

 

It hurt to change. His bones broke, his muscles lengthened and snapped. Dean broke down, howling in pain, then reconstructed himself, his body rebuilding in to something smaller, something honed and made for killing.

 

He grew in to a creature that was all teeth and claws. His world narrowed, his mind sharpened. He was unaware of anything now, expect for the people standing in the clearing. The rest of the world melted away.

 

Dean saw red.

 

His mate was in danger. There was a vampire.

 

Dean knew exactly what he needed to do. He leapt past Castiel, ready to give him life to protect his mate.

 

The vampire smelled like death. Dean drove straight at him, knocking him on to his back. The vampire gripped hold of him. There was strength there. He wasn’t as weak as he looked, but Dean was stronger. They struggled for a few moments. There was a flash of fangs, an attempt to bite, to infect, but Dean was faster. He was younger, quicker. He snapped, jaws closing around bitter, grave-dirt flesh and he tore into the vampire’s throat.

 

The scent of the vampire’s blood made Dean reel back in disgust. It was dead man’s blood, thick and dried and rotten.

 

He couldn’t stop. He couldn’t leave the job half done. Even now the vampire was sitting up, his throat ripped open in a bright red grin.

 

If Dean didn’t take his head off, then the vampire would rise again.

 

He forced himself back, forced himself to bite again, to rip and tear and to not taste the rotten, aged blood. This was a fight to the death and Dean couldn’t afford to lose. It wasn’t only his life on the line, but Castiel’s as well.

 

The vampire clawed at his back, tearing out chunks of fur, ripping Dean open and Dean muffled his howls, tearing and biting at the vampire’s neck.

 

Finally, when Dean thought he couldn’t take it any longer, that he would be forced back in to his human form by the stench and stink of the vampire, he finished the job.

 

Dean sat back on his haunches, his muzzle covered in blood and slowly, painfully, changed. The moment he was human, he vomited. He could feel his body starting the agonizing process of healing. The deep gouges left in his back were beginning to close already. The healing process was sped up for Dean, a perk of being a werewolf, but it still hurt. He was still injured, even if those injures would be gone in a few minutes.

 

He spared a glance for the vampire’s body, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Crowley’s head lay a little way away. His throat was a raggedy, torn mess. Dean forced himself to look away. His stomach churned as he got unsteadily to his feet.

 

Crowley was dead. He was the least of Dean’s worries now.

 

There was Castiel to think about.

 

Dean rushed to Castiel’s side, getting there just in time to catch him as Castiel sank to his knees, shaking his head, dizzy and confused.

 

“Hey. I’ve got you” Dean murmured, holding Castiel close to him. He could feel how fast Castiel’s heart was beating, like the wings of a frightened bird. He had no idea how much Castiel had seen, how much he was aware of.

 

“Dean,” Castiel whispered, his eyes widening as he began to come back to himself. “Where are we? I was in the living room, Crowley was there. Dean, are you bleeding?” His fingers brushed across Dean’s jaw.

 

“It’s not my blood,” Dean grunted.

 

“Oh,” Castiel said. He shook in Dean’s arms. “What happened, Dean? I don’t remember anything, I don’t know how I got here. Tell me what happened.”

 

He tried to turn; to look over Dean’s shoulder but Dean didn’t let him. He didn’t want Castiel to see the body. It was a horrid sight. Dean had seen a lot of dead men and a lot more dead monsters and the sight of Crowley’s body had still turned his stomach. Castiel shouldn’t have to see that.

 

“You’re not going to believe me,” Dean said.

 

He’d wanted to take this slowly. He’d wanted to show Castiel his wolf form but in the privacy of Castiel’s apartment. He’d wanted Castiel to see that he wasn’t dangerous but how could he say that now, when he was coated in blood?

 

“Crowley isn’t human, is he? He couldn’t be. He made me do things, made me think things.” Castiel said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he scanned Dean’s face, apparently finding the answer he was looking for there because he nodded. “And you’re not human either, are you?”

 

Dean’s heart plummeted like a stone. He knew he couldn’t have hoped to keep it a secret, not after what had happened, but he hadn’t thought Castiel would guess the truth so quickly. He knew he wasn’t giving Castiel enough credit. Castiel had studied fairy tales. He’d studied the stories that were about creatures like Dean, that were warnings against them. If anyone could put things together, it would be Castiel.

 

“No, I’m not human,” Dean agreed, waiting for Castiel to hit him. He was prepared to let Castiel go, to let him scramble away and run. He wasn’t prepared for Castiel to stay, staring up at him, waiting for Dean to continue.

 

Dean cleared his throat, trying to find the words. “Crowley is, or rather was, a vampire. He compelled you to come here. I followed you. I’m not human, you got that right, I’m a werewolf but it’s not like movies make it out to be, Castiel. I’m not some monster! I’m not an animal. I came here to protect you.” He knew he sounded desperate. He was begging Castiel to believe him, to trust him.

 

Castiel licked his lips, drawing in a shaky breath. “Is Crowley dead?”

 

“He was going to drink your blood, make you into a vampire too,” Dean said defensively.

 

“He did something to Gabriel,” Castiel said softly. “The same thing he did to me.”

 

“I can get Sam to check on Gabriel,” Dean promised, glad that Castiel seemed to have accepted Crowley’s death without any upset. He was more concerned about Gabriel. Dean wondered if Castiel even gathered that Dean had killed Crowley, or if he was in shock and not really processing anything. He didn’t know. He’d never dealt with someone who’d been compelled before.

 

“Come on,” Dean said. “We should get you out of here.” He didn’t think it was good for Castiel to be out in the woods in the middle of the night. He didn’t even have a coat. “Do you think you can stand?” he asked.

 

“Yes, I think I could,” Castiel said. He climbed unsteadily to his feet, using Dean to support himself as he got up. Dean rose slowly, carefully steading Castiel. He slid an arm around Castiel, letting the man lean against him.

 

“Why did you come here?” Castiel asked quietly.

 

“Here? I told you, Castiel. Crowley had….”

 

“No, I didn’t mean that,” Castiel interrupted, shaking his head. “I meant to Angel Falls. Why did you come here?”

 

Dean sighed. He supposed now was as good a time as any to explain to Castiel what he’d been doing in the town.

 

“I was looking for my mate,” he said, glancing at Castiel. “And I found him.”

 

Castiel gasped softly. Dean knew he didn’t need to elaborate. Castiel obviously grasped the situation. Dean wouldn’t have expected anything else. Castiel was smart. Even so, Dean thought he should say it out loud. He’d just killed a vampire for Castiel. He wanted Castiel to know exactly why he’d done it.

 

“It’s you, Castiel. You’re my mate. You have no idea how delicious you smell to me,” he said, feeling Castiel shiver in his arms. He hurried quickly to try to put Castiel’s fears to rest. “I didn’t want to force you in to anything. I’m not that kind of man. I wanted to take things slowly, I wanted to date first. I know this is scary. It’s nothing you’ve done, it’s just biology and I can’t change it, but I won’t ever hurt you, Castiel. I won’t make you do anything.”

 

“I’m a human,” Castiel said quietly. “How can I be your mate?”

 

“I could bite you,” Dean said, wishing that they were talking about anything else.

 

Castiel stopped suddenly. He looked up at Dean, studying him intently for a long moment. Then he tipped his head back, presenting his throat to Dean.

 

“Bite me,” he said.

 

Dean stared at the pale, milky white column of Castiel’s throat. It would be so easy to bite him now, to claim him. Dean could still remember being a wolf and that animalistic desire surged in him, telling him to make Castiel is own and forget about everything else.

 

He shook his head, forcing himself to look away.

 

“No,” he said. “I won’t bite you now, Cas. You don’t even understand what that would mean. I’m not going to.”

 

It didn’t matter how much he wanted to bite Castiel, Dean wouldn’t let himself. Castiel had been through an ordeal. He wasn’t thinking straight. He didn’t know what he was offering. Dean wouldn’t take advantage of him and his innocence. He wanted Castiel to know everything, to know exactly what would happen to him. Castiel would change. His body would change, his thoughts and feelings, his perception of the world. He would be bound to Dean. They would belong together in a bond that could only be broken by death.

 

Castiel had led a sheltered life. He’d told Dean as much himself. Dean didn’t want to rob him for the chance to experience something else.

 

Dean could wait for him or he could accept that Castiel didn’t want to be his mate, but he wouldn’t bite Castiel when Castiel didn’t know what he was getting in to. Dean would never hurt him. He would never do anything to make Castiel hate him. He could survive without Castiel, he could understand if Castiel didn’t want to be his mate, but he couldn’t live with Castiel despising him for taking advantage of him when Castiel was vulnerable.

 

“Come on,” he said, urging Castiel to move. “We’ll talk about this later.”

 

There was a rustle up ahead of them. Dean froze, the hairs on the back of his neck rising, but Sam burst through the bushes and Dean relaxed. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting but after the night they’d had, it could have been anything. He cursed himself for not trusting his sense of smell. His nose could have told him that it was Sam and nothing to worry about.

 

“Are you okay?” Sam asked, panting.

 

“I’m taking Castiel home,” Dean said. “There’s a body in a clearing a little while back. Follow your nose. Bury it or burn it, just get rid of it.” He shuddered. Dean wanted to get back to the motel and brush his teeth, to try to get rid of the taste of vampire. Then he wanted to drink a couple of shots of whiskey to burn the memory of it from his tongue.

 

“Right,” Sam said slowly. Dean knew he’d have to explain later but now wasn’t the time. He needed to get Castiel home. He needed to sit down or sleep it off. Dean didn’t want to keep Castiel out in the cold air any longer than needed.

 

“Then I need you to go by the bookstore,” Dean said, remembering suddenly that there’d be someone else who would be waking up disoriented and confused. “Gabriel, Castiel’s friend, he might need your help. Crowley put some kind of whammy on him too.”

 

“Okay,” Sam agreed. He shot Castiel a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure he’ll be alright.”

 

Castiel didn’t smile back.

 

“I know Crowley was a vampire. He could have bitten him,” he said, his voice hollow and emotionless.

 

Sam looked started, obviously not having expected that reaction. It hadn’t been what Dean had expected either, if the truth was told. There was a possibility that Gabriel had been bitten. Sam might be going to find a body or a newly turned vampire.

 

“Benny said he’s headed our way,” Dean said quickly, hoping Sam would understand what he was hitting at. If Gabriel was a newly minted bloodsucker then Benny could help him learn to control those urges. Sam didn’t need to do anything drastic. If Gabriel had been turned then they could handle it. “Might want to ask for him to come and help you.”

 

“Who’s Benny?” Castiel asked.

 

“An old friend,” Dean said.

 

He didn’t want to explain to Castiel that there was another vampire coming. It was hard enough for Dean to accept that he was friends with a vampire and it had been years. He didn’t know how Castiel would react.

 

“Yeah, sure,” Sam said, frowning.

 

Dean knew he didn’t like Benny but Sam was going to have to just suck it up. They’d need to work together, especially if Gabriel had been turned. Dean found himself hoping that he had, given the alternative. Gabriel could have some kind of life, even if it was a hidden, half-life, if he’d been turned. If Gabriel was dead, Dean wasn’t sure how he was ever going to explain it to Castiel. As far as Dean knew, Gabriel had been trying to protect Castiel. He didn’t deserve to die. He was just an innocent bystander in all of this.

 

“Come on,” Dean said, urging Castiel to get moving again. Sam could deal with everything else. Dean’s focus was on Castiel. The motel was closer than Castiel’s apartment. It was out of the way, secluded. People would notice who came and went in Castiel’s apartment block, but they wouldn’t notice in the motel.

 

Their path through the woods was sluggish. Castiel was falling asleep on his feet. Dean wished he had the car or something, anything that would make it easier. He found himself carrying Castiel as they got closer to the motel, cradling Castiel close to his chest. Dean was glad it was late and he was even more pleased to learn that the motel owner wasn’t the sort who stayed up watching for late night paying guests.

 

Dean struggled to hold Castiel up as he opened the door to his motel room. He carried Castiel inside and laid him down on his bed. Castiel made a soft, sleepy sound. He opened his eyes but he wasn’t really looking at Dean. He wasn’t really looking at anything.

 

Dean dragged the blanket up over Castiel, covering him and murmured softly “Sleep. It’ll be okay.”

 

Castiel’s eyes slipped shut and after a moment Dean was certain he was asleep. Castiel’s chest rose and fell steadily. Dean pulled up a chair and sat beside him, watching him. He wasn’t completely convinced that Castiel was okay. He might be sleeping soundly now but what was going to happen in a few hours? His subconscious would start trying to make sense of what he’d seen and the strange things that had happened to him. Dean wanted to be there to wake him up if he had a nightmare or to stop him running if that was Castiel’s first thought.

 

They needed to talk and talk seriously.

 

Things couldn’t go back to what they’d been before, they’d been changed irrevocably. Castiel knew about the undead now. He knew that the things he’d studied, the things he thought were just stories, the stuff of myth and legend, were in fact real. He’d have questions.

 

When he woke up, Dean was going to be there to answer them for him.

 

 

Castiel’s sleep was surprisingly peaceful. He made the odd noise and moved occasionally, but for the most part he seemed untroubled. Dean had received a text message from Sam around midnight. Gabriel was alive, dazed and unbitten. Sam had taken him home and, to Dean’s surprise, had elected to stay with him. The last text he’d received at about 2am informed him that Gabriel wasn’t able to sleep and that Sam was up making them hot chocolate. Dean had chuckled at that and slipped his phone back in to his pocket, returning his focus to Castiel.

 

At least he’d be able to tell him the good news about his friend when Castiel was finally awake.

 

Around 5am there was a knock on the door. Dean got to his feet unsteadily. He was feeling the worse for wear. His body always ached after a change. He’d had a few glasses of whiskey to settle his nerves and get rid of the taste of vampire from his mouth but otherwise he hadn’t left Castiel’s bedside. He was cramped and uncomfortable from sitting hunched up in a chair all night.

 

Castiel didn’t seem to have been disturbed by the knock. He was still soundly asleep.

 

Dean made his way to the motel door, opening it quickly. Benny was standing on the other side.

 

“Rough night?” he asked.

 

“You don’t know the half of it,” Dean said, standing back to let Benny in. “Come in, you can meet Castiel. He’s not terribly talkative at the moment.”

 

“Castiel?” Benny sounded confused.

 

“My mate,” Dean clarified, nodding towards the sleeping man in the bed. He watched Benny, waiting for him to be surprised. Castiel hadn’t exactly been the dream mate Dean had described to Benny but he was Dean’s.

 

Benny stood a respectful distance back from the bed, looking Castiel over.

  
“He’s a beauty,” he said, finally, as if they were discussing a fish Dean had caught and not a person.

 

Dean found himself growling.

 

Benny shot him a look and held his hands up in front of him, a gesture of surrender. “It was only a compliment.”

 

“We should go outside,” Dean said. He was uncomfortable with the two of them standing around, watching Castiel while he slept. It crossed the line from protective to creepy.

 

He ushered Benny outside and then shut the motel door firmly behind them.

 

His phone beeped in his pocket. Dean dug it out.

 

‘Dean, how do you know if you’ve found your mate? Gabriel smells like chocolate and sugar. He smells like he could rot my teeth but I can’t stop sniffing him.’

 

Dean shook his head, smiling and put his phone back in his pocket. Sam could sort this one out on his own. Dean could tease him about it later. He has some questions for Benny first.

 

“I killed the vampire,” he said guiltily. He didn’t regret what he’d done. It had been the only choice but he couldn’t help feeling it might make things awkward between him and Benny.

 

Benny shrugged. “It happens.”

 

“He’d compelled Castiel, planted a lot of rubbish inside his head about me being an animal. Are there going to be any after effects? Is Castiel always going to feel that way?” Dean asked nervously.

 

Benny rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “There shouldn’t be any lasting damage. It might take a couple of days but the vampire who compelled him is dead. Anything he compelled him to think or feel should fade.”

 

Dean sighed, relieved. That had been what he’d hoped, but he hadn’t been certain. He didn’t know how strong a compulsion could be. He’d heard stories about people being compelled for years. He’d hoped that once Crowley was dead, his influence would begin to fade but Dean had wanted to be certain. Getting Benny’s opinion on it put some of his fears to rest but not all of them. Even if Crowley’s compulsion would soon fade, Castiel might not be himself for a while longer.

 

“Do you want to get yourself a room?” he asked Benny.

 

“Don’t want me around? I saw a spare bed in there.” Benny grinned. “I get it. I know it’s not a personal thing.” He patted Dean on the shoulder, smiling at him. “You should get back in there; he’ll be waking up soon.”

 

Dean smiled back at Benny, thankful his friend understood the situation. He watched Benny walk away for a split second before darting back inside the motel room. The thought of Castiel waking up and Dean not being there wasn’t one he wanted to dwell on. He settled back down into his chair at Castiel’s bedside, sighing when he saw Castiel was still soundly asleep.

 

His phone beeped again.

 

Dean pulled it out of his pocket and smiled.

 

‘Don’t call me back!’ read Sam’s message. ‘Everything’s good’

 

If Dean was reading between the lines right, and he thought he was, then Sam was getting a little impromptu mating of his own. He wouldn’t want Dean calling in the middle of that. Dean’s finger hovered over the call button, but he decided to let Sam have his fun without interruption. He wouldn’t want Sam to remember and phone him later when Dean didn’t want him to.

 

Castiel stirred, mumbling softly and Dean shoved his phone back in to his pocket. He leant a little closer, waiting hopefully and after a moment, Castiel’s eyes flickered open. He drew in a deep breath, looking around him in confusion.

 

“Where am I?” he asked.

 

“My motel room. It was closer than your apartment,” Dean said, hoping Castiel wouldn’t be upset by that.

 

Castiel struggled up, leaning back against the pillows.

 

“That explains the lumpy mattress,” he said with a sigh. He got himself comfortable, pulling the blanket up and crossing his arms over his chest. He looked at Dean shrewdly. “So, you’re a werewolf.”

 

Dean smiled softly, impressed by Castiel’s directness. “I suppose that answers the question about how much you remember.”

 

Castiel furrowed his brow. “I think I told you to bite me.” He lifted his fingers to his throat, feeling on both sides. “You didn’t.”

 

“You were practically passing out, I don’t think you really understood what you were saying,” Dean said, shrugging his shoulders. “Oh, and Gabriel’s fine, by the way, my brother’s with him.”

 

“Not a vampire?” Castiel asked.

 

“Not a vampire,” Dean agreed. He omitted the fact that Gabriel might now be a werewolf. Sam’s texts had been hazy.

 

Castiel smiled softly, relaxing back into the pillows. “That’s good.”

 

He cleared his throat, glancing at Dean. “Now, let me see if I’ve got this right. My old boss was a vampire, you’re a werewolf. My boss attempted to turn me into one of the undead and you killed him. I’m your mate and you’d like to bite me.”

 

“It doesn’t sound too good when you put it like that but that’s the basics, yeah,” Dean agreed. He sounded too like Crowley for his own tastes. They might have both wanted Castiel, but Dean had never wanted to force his bite on Castiel.

 

“I know you looked after me,” Castiel said. “I’m not scared of you, Dean. I’ve never been scared of you. You make me feel safe.” He looked puzzled, his fingers stroking absentmindedly up and down his neck. Dean followed the movement, licking his lips. It was like watching porn, but a hundred times more arousing because it was Castiel, his mate.

 

“Cas, um, could you stop?” he asked, forcing himself to look away.

 

“Oh,” Castiel said, lowering his hand. He took a deep breath. “How do you know I’m your mate? How does it work?”

 

“Your scent,” Dean said. “Werewolves have a high developed sense of smell. You smell amazing to me – like apple pie and cinnamon, really sweet. It’s something biological. No one else could smell like that. I’ve been searching for my mate for years, Cas, I’m older than I look. No-one else smells like you.”

 

“So you don’t control it?” Castiel asked. “It’s just something that happens and you don’t know when or where?”

 

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Don’t take this the wrong way, Cas, but I was expecting some a hot chick.”

 

Castiel frowned.

 

“I’m sorry I’m not a hot chick,” he said, tensing up.

 

“I’m not,” Dean said fondly. He reached out, taking hold of Castiel’s hand. “You don’t understand. I don’t want anyone but you, Cas. You’re my mate. To me, you’re perfect.”

 

Castiel flushed, his cheeks turning pleasantly pink.

 

“And do you mate for life?” he asked.

 

Dean nodded. “Oh yeah. You’re my one and only.”

 

“Will it hurt? Becoming a werewolf, I mean?” Castiel asked.

 

“I think so. I don’t know for certain, I was born one. I know it hurts changing in to a wolf, but there are good things too. Heightened sense of smell and hearing, strength. You live longer too and we’d be together,” Dean said nervously. He didn’t know if mating with him was actually a strong selling point where Castiel was concerned.

 

“Can you show me your wolf form?” Castiel asked. “No,” he interrupted before Dean could say anything, shaking his head. “You said it hurt to change.”

 

“I can do it,” Dean said hurriedly. He hopped off the chair and on to the floor. “Just close your eyes.” He knew the phases between Dean and the wolf weren’t the prettiest to see.

 

Castiel shut his eyes obediently.

 

Dean concentrated, holding back a whimper of pain as his jaw began to lengthen. It was all over in a few seconds, his body shifted from one form to another and Dean shook himself. He padded up to the bed and nudged Castiel’s hand, whining softly. He wanted Castiel’s approval. He was worried now that he was too big, too animal.

 

Castiel opened his eyes.

 

“Oh,” he breathed. He held out his hand and Dean licked it softly. Castiel smiled and stroked his fingers over Dean’s muzzle. “You’re a handsome boy, aren’t you?”

 

Despite himself, Dean wagged his tail, thumping it against the floor. He wasn’t a dog and he didn’t like behaving like one, but Castiel was his mate and Dean had the biggest case of puppy love in his life. He jumped up on to the bed, settling his heavy bulk across Castiel’s knees, letting Castiel pet him. It was soothing.

 

“You’re not as big as I thought you were going to be,” Castiel said softly. “I thought you’d be something scary but you look like a real wolf.” He scratched behind Dean’s ears and Dean melted. “I wouldn’t mind becoming something like you.”

 

Dean let himself lie in Castiel’s lap for a little longer, his eyes closed, as Castiel stroked his fur and told him how handsome he was. Eventually, he nudged Castiel’s hand away with his nose and got up. He jumped off the bed and headed in to the bathroom. A few moments later he reappeared, human again and only slightly sore.

 

“Not too shabby then?” he asked Castiel.

 

“Very nice, actually,” Castiel said. He patted the space beside him on the bed. “Come here.”

 

Dean sat down gingerly, edging a little closer to Castiel.

 

“So,” he said, not sure what else to say. He didn’t want to make Castiel feel as if he was pressuring him. It was just hard to think of anything but mating when Castiel was so close to him. He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, getting another hit of Castiel’s delicious scent.

 

He opened his eyes to find Castiel watching him intently.

 

“I think I’ve made my choice,” Castiel said quietly, reaching for Dean’s hand. He laced their fingers together, smiling at Dean. “I want you to bite me. I want to be your mate, Dean.”

 

Dean’s breath caught in his throat.

 

“Are you sure?” he asked.

 

Castiel nodded. “I feel it too. The moment I met you, I just felt right. I’ve never felt that way before. I trust you, Dean.”

 

Dean swallowed hard.

 

Castiel tipped his head back, baring his throat to him.

 

“Do it,” he said.

 

Dean leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to the pale skin of Castiel’s throat.

 

“Mine,” he whispered before he sunk his teeth into Castiel’s neck. He tasted blood on his tongue, rich and metallic and he held the bite for two beats of Castiel’s heart before he pulled back and looked at Castiel.

 

Castiel’s breathing was labored, his eyes closed. Dean curled around him protectively; lapping at the bite mark he’d left in Castiel’s otherwise unmarred skin. Castiel shifted restlessly, whimpering, his fingers curling and uncurling, clutching tight at the bed covers. Dean murmured softly to him, the words mostly nonsense, trying to soothe him.

 

He knew how hard the change was and he wished he could take that pain away from Castiel but there was nothing Dean could do but hold him and try to comfort him.

 

Suddenly, Castiel’s eyes snapped open. They glowed yellow. His body arched, snapping ridged and then, as quickly as the change had come over him, he relaxed back into the pillows.

 

“Cas?” Dean asked, worried.

 

Castiel breathed deeply, turning his head to look at Dean.

 

“Mine,” he murmured, reaching out and grabbing a fist full of Dean’s shirt. He tugged him forward and pressed their mouths together, sealing them in their first kiss.

 

 

Two Months Later:

 

Dean never wanted to leave his bed again, especially not when it contained his beautiful mate. The last two months felt like they’d gone by in a blur. There had been so many new things to get used to. It had taken Castiel a few days to get used to his new strength. Once he and Dean broke the motel bed it became clear that they needed a home of their own. They’d managed to find an old farm house that was broken down and going cheap. Sam had come to, bringing Gabriel with him. It was the beginnings of a pack.

 

Dean had spent a lot of time fixing the farm house, making it livable. Sam and Castiel had started a vegetable garden. There’d been rabbits and deer in the fields surrounding the farm, enough to keep them well fed and to teach the two new wolves how to hunt. Castiel had been a natural. Gabriel complained loudly and at length that he preferred to catch his food already foil wrapped and at the grocery store.

 

After some debate, Castiel had told Anna about his new life and his new address. She’d come to the farm house to see for herself, to see firsthand that Castiel was happy. Dean had been wary about letting a human in to their secret, but Castiel had insisted. Anna had been disbelieving at first, until she saw Castiel’s wolf form. Then she was full of questions, eager to know everything. She had accepted them, accepted everything that went with being a werewolf, although she turned down the offer of receiving the bite. Anna preferred humanity, but she congratulated Castiel on finding the life he wanted – settled and complete with someone who loved him.

 

Everything considered, the last two months had been blissful.

 

Castiel’s soft little gasp brought Dean back to the present, back to the here and now that consisted of their warm bed and his mate on his hands and knees, presenting himself to Dean. Dean gave himself a moment to admire Castiel like this, so wild and wanting, waiting for Dean to claim him.

 

He growled, fisting his cock in his hand, stroking himself as he watched Castiel. He was beautiful like this, flushed with pleasure, his fingers digging in to the mattress, his hips rocking back, making sweet little noises as he waited for Dean to knot him.

 

“Dean,” Castiel hissed, pushing his hips upwards desperately. “Stop teasing me!”  

 

Dean chuckled softly. “You’re just too good to look at, Cas. I want to admire to view.”

 

“Stop admiring, start fucking,” Castiel whined.

 

Dean moved behind him, pressing the head of his cock to Castiel’s hole. Castiel pressed his hips back deliberately and in one quick, sharp movement Dean was buried tight in Castiel. He slapped Castiel lightly on the back of his thigh.

 

“Hungry, aren’t you?” he said, rolling his hips forward slowly, intent on making it last.

 

“You shouldn’t have teased,” Castiel said, whimpering as Dean grabbed hold of his hips, forcing him to still. “Dean!”

 

“Do you want me to mate you properly, Cas? Want me to claim you? Knot you?” Dean panted. It was torture for him too, going this slow. He wanted to pound in to Castiel, to mark him up. He just needed to hear Castiel say it. He needed to hear how much Castiel wanted it.

 

“Yes!” Castiel gasped. “Please, Dean. Please, knot me. I want it.”

 

That was everything Dean needed. He set a brutal pace, fucking into Castiel hard. There would be bruises. Castiel would be covered in marks. He’d have Dean’s finger prints on his hips and bite marks on his shoulders and neck. Castiel would be covered in Dean’s scent. It didn’t matter that the only people who they ever saw with any regularity were Sam and Gabriel. Dean wanted anyone who came close to know that Castiel was his.

 

He bit down hard in to Castiel’s shoulder, muffling his howls of pleasure. The bed creaked and groaned beneath them. Castiel cried out, the noise inhuman and music to Dean’s ears. Dean could feel his knot starting to swell and he knew he was close. He never managed to last long when Castiel wanted to rut like this. All he could focus on was knotting Castiel, coming inside him and staying locked together.

 

His knot was so swollen now, catching at Castiel’s rim and Dean knew he was going to come any minute. Castiel was trembling, whimpering and whining, rocking back on to his cock like the prettiest little boy in heat. That was all it took to push Dean over the edge. He bit down harder, causing Castiel to cry out and then he was coming, pumping in to Castiel, fill him full of his seed.

 

He held them there for as long as he could, holding Castiel up because he knew Castiel didn’t have the strength now. He was tossing his head, baring his throat, completely submissive now. Dean eased them down till they were lying spooned together, Dean still locked deep in Castiel. He licked Castiel’s throat and bit him gently, reaching between Castiel’s legs to take hold of his still hard cock. He stroked Castiel off, enjoying the way Castiel twisted and writhed on his knot. Castiel fucked back on to his knot and forward in to Dean’s hand before he came, shuddering all over and sobbing out Dean’s name.

 

He collapsed back in to Dean’s arms, gasping for breath and Dean released his hold on Castiel’s throat, nuzzling and licking at the dark red mark he’d left behind.

 

“I was supposed to help Sam weed the garden later,” Castiel said vaguely after a few minutes.

 

“Going to be tied together for a while yet,” Dean said, rolling his hips to punctuate the fact that his knot was still buried tight in Castiel. They wouldn’t be untangling themselves for a good hour or two.

 

“I’m sure Sam knows not to expect me by now,” Castiel said, yawning. “You make a lot of noise.”

 

“You’re just as bad,” Dean said, squeezing Castiel tightly.

 

Castiel patted his flat stomach. “So, do you think that did it? Do you think you mated me properly?”

 

“If not, we can always try again. I like trying,” Dean mumbled softly. He placed his hand over Castiel’s, smiling. “You’re going to look so good, all big and round and carrying my pups.”

 

Castiel turned his head, kissing Dean soundly.

 

Dean hadn’t known who or what he was looking for when he’d set out to find his mate. He hadn’t known where his path was going to lead or the dangers he’d face, but he knew now that if he had to do it all over again, he wouldn’t change a thing.

 

Castiel was perfect. Castiel was his mate.

 

He was all Dean needed for the rest of his life.

 


End file.
